Bad Days
by TheDarkHyuuga
Summary: Ralph Falun hates Jack Merridew. Jack Merridew should hate Ralph Falun. These are the days that follow them. After The Island fic. JackxRalph.
1. Chapter 1

**So I haven't finished it yet but OMG I just adore LORD OF THE FLIES!**

**I totally spoiled myself and read ahead in English class!**

**It's a really good book with a recognizable lesson that people tend to stray away from.**

**And as I searched the net, I was delighted to find that the book actually has a fandom!**

**So my Jack x Ralph shipping was born!**

**P.S. I gave the new characters and the old ones last names cause, well, I felt it would be a nice touch to the story.**

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"Ralph! Pass the ball!" Johnny Marco shouted, waving his hands like a madman and entering Ralph Ackland's trail. His eyes were wide and his brown hair flew in the wind as he raced down the field alongside the blonde.

The soccer ball jittered from side to side, slipping past Ralph's wet sneakers and squeaking as it was passed to the brunette. Johnny caught it with ease and Ralph was allowed to slow down, his breath coming out raspy and pale. He reached to his collar and flapped it, letting in cool spring air onto his sweaty chest. The sun beat down on his neck like a ton of bricks and he knew he had to keep moving or he would melt. Something red was flickering against the corner of his right eye, and Ralph refused to look over, knowing already who it was.

As he turned his head to the other side, it hit him. Or more like _he_ hit him. Before Ralph could stop running, Roger Paling knocked into him from the side, his elbows digging into the blonde's ribcage, and Ralph toppled onto the ground in shock, the wind having been knocked out of him. His left cheek brushed against the brown soil below him roughly, and his shoulder followed, bumping against a leg. He coughed up dried, cut grass that was stuffed into his mouth from the fall. All around him, boys were shouting and laughing. Two shadows loomed over his fallen body and he turned to his uninjured right side and looked up.

The sky was a lovely hue of blue, the sun like a dangling chandelier. The faces looming in his vision were nightly and beastly, grinning with shining malicious eyes. Their hands were at their waists, their shorts stained with an ugly pine colour and their hands smudge with brown dirt. They were chuckling darkly, and Roger Paling kicked Ralph in the stomach ambiguously.

Jack Merridew just watched.

A whistle blew and all the boys on the soccer field stopped. Ralph was too sore to even lift his head at the signal. But he heard heavy feet shuffling against the ground towards him and the monsters, and the loud, harsh sound of Coach Hilton. Ralph closed his eyes and put a hand to his twisted elbow.

"Paling! Off the field! And I expect you in detention tomorrow at lunch!"

Roger's eyes glared but he shrugged and smiled, casually making his way to the worn out wooden benches at the side. Jack Merridew stood there, his blue eyes looking at the coach innocently. He quickly shot down and grabbed Ralph roughly, "helping" him up. Ralph patted the dirt on his shirt and pulled himself away from Jack, taking a step back. He knew his hair was a total mess now and that he would need to take a long shower at home. Coach Hilton was talking to him.

"Ralph? Are you ok?" he gripped the boy's shoulder and Ralph winced. Hilton let go quickly, as if he had been zapped, then drew his hand back, rubbing gently against the shoulder. "Is it sore? Do you need to go to the nurse's office?"

Ralph nodded, not meeting the coach, or Jack's, eyes. He knew the question that came next and beat Hilton to it.

"I can go there myself. I don't need someone's help. Honest" he added when he saw a look of doubt pass by the coach's face.

"Well…alright then. Take care of yourself though. Can't have you collapse again over my watch."

Ralph nodded and made his way across the field. He knew the boys were watching him go, and some had strained faces. But they looked away quickly and regrouped to decide who would replace Roger and Ralph on both teams. The blonde knew none of them would speak up. He never expected it. This was not the first time an "accident" including Roger and/or Jack had happened to him in Gym class. In fact, this was the fifth one in a whole week. That was a record. He knew Jack, at least, was keeping track, because just before Hilton was in speaking distance, Jack had bent down and breathed "number five, Ralphie," into his ear before letting him go.

The hallways were completely empty. Not even seniors, who tended to skip classes, were bickering and talking next to the fountains and vending machines. Ralph found peace in the hush surrounding him and he rubbed his raw cheek softly, trying to fruitlessly clean off patches of dirt from his oozing wounds that could give him an infection. He learned at least that much during his time on the island.

Ralph reached the nurse's office and there, he asked for a few packs of ice and wet tissues. Taking one look at the dirty boy, the young secretary dashed to the First Aid cabinet inside a disclosed room above the plain bed where Ralph took a seat on. He took the items with a smile and adjusted his aching shoulder so he could slide a few small ice packs under his wet shirt painlessly. The wet towel was used to wipe the remaining dirt of his cheek and, he discovered, his neck, before he placed some band-aids on the cuts underneath. His cheek stung but other than that, he was going to survive. When he saw the dried blood, though, Ralph stomach churned and he felt sick. His mind slipped into harsh memories, which took a year and a half of therapy to suppress. But he knew he would never forget.

Blood on sand. Blood on his hands. And teeth. And nails. Blood on a dead pig. Blood on a rock. Blood everywhere. He remembered the coppery scent, the salty taste. He had almost bit his tongue off during the hunt against him. Back in civilization, he needed stitches to fix what his ravaged teeth had done.

Ralph put a hand to his stomach and swallowed. He would _not_ give in. Not again. He was all grown up now. He understood what had happened and accepted what he, and the boys, had done. He wasn't 12 and confident, and he wasn't 12 and scared for his life. He was 16 and done with those memories, done with the island. He would always remember his brilliant Piggy and his righteous Simon but that was it. The tribe, the fire, the dance, Jack Merridew. He wouldn't let himself be hunted, be a prey, like that ever again. That was his promise and after the first times, he was doing a good job.

Ralph still remembered feeling a little annoyed when his worrying parents decided to remove him from his rowdy and "insufficient" neighbourhood and plop him in the preppy and clean St. Calium Catholic Secondary School. Ralph had planned to go to a high school that was only a five-minute walk from his place. But they would not have of that and were convinced being around his faith would help him heal where they couldn't. To this, Ralph only sighed and accepted it, finding the whole ordeal a bit funny at the time. However, as tired as he was, Ralph wasn't expecting to end up, on the first day, in the same homeroom class as Jack Merridew.

At first, he was incredibly shaken at seeing an older version of the one person he knew he would hate for the rest of his life no matter what. Jack had really grown physically. He was tall, much taller then when he and Ralph were on the island, and his red hair was shorter, obviously, but still curled around his ears and chin, strands creating the illusion of bangs sometimes, and was a lighter shade. What freckles remained were placed finely on his nose bridge and where he was ugly and plain as a boy, he looked edgier and more refined now as a teenager. And the many girls he dated over countless days proved his shift.

What didn't seem to change, however, was Jack's ruthless and bossy behaviour. Ralph had visited the Church next to the school many times and he was completely numb, one day, when he saw Jack, in a familiar black outfit, and a group of some of the same choir boys from the island, filing in on the aisle, taking their places in the front of the room and opened their books simultaneously. When they started to sing, Ralph was helplessly brought to tears. Their voices, which he was used to hearing them use in chants around the tribal fire, were majestic and beautiful, bouncing around the room in perfect harmony and pitching perfectly.

When it was Jack's solo, he hit that C sharp like he'd been doing it all his life. Which he probably had. Ralph was just amazed at the high note since he was sure Jack had hit puberty from his low voice when he spoke.

Ralph remained quite in his corner seat, hoping they would continue not to notice him, frozen by the familiar eyes and rough features of boys that had hunted him down.

He just couldn't wrap his mind around it at all. These boys looked clean and kind and their voices were like angels. No one would ever believe that either one of them could even swat a fly. It simply surprised Ralph how much he knew about the boys' true natures. He probably knew them better then their own parents did. And vice versa, of course.

There was a sudden turn of symphony near the end of the song and everyone stopped. Ralph had raised his head and peeked through his blonde bangs. A new boy, short and skinny with long locks of auburn hair, was looking around nervously. The other choirboys were staring at him. He was blushing like mad. Jack put the book in his hands down, walked over to the short boy and slapped him across the face without warning. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed and Ralph flinched as if he had been the one hit.

The kid held his cheek and began to cry. Jack shouted at the child that he was useless if he couldn't sing his part properly and that he was bringing everyone down. Jack's shouts soon subsided and he was talking in a quiet and harsh tone to the little boy. If they were on the island, Ralph knew, Jack would have the child executed right then and there.

None of the others spoke up for the child. The olders ones looked away or watched without expression, and the new ones were too frightened to say anything. Jack, it seemed, was power to them all. Like on the island.

When he was done, Jack looked up and met Ralph's eyes from across the room. At first, they just locked gazes. Then Jack smiled cruelly and winked. And Ralph was out of there, sprinting across the room, knowing full well the other boys had seen and recognized him, and dashed out of the doors, suddenly feeling less safe in the one place that promised sanctuary.

On his first day, Jack didn't even glance in Ralph's direction ever. After the event in the Church, everything changed. Jack knew who he was and acknowledged his lost prey once again.

Soon, the ugly truth about the "pure" school was revealed. Ralph learned that while Jack and his band of choirboys were the ideal fellows that all should be looking up to, they had a much deeper alias. They were, in fact, St. Calium's very own gang of bullies, with Jack Merridew leading them through it all. They terrorized freshman, vandalized buildings around town and threw parties that would have Scandalous magazines knocking at their doors. And they always got away with it, whether through their parents shushing up the city or the school hiding everything.

And the funny thing about it all, it was the same boys, the same biguns that gave the littleuns, Ralph and Piggy a run for their lives. It was the same group of savages that first broke off the boys, the same group of savages that had brought on the feast, the same group of savages that had crushed Piggy, and the same group of savages that had almost killed Ralph. They were back and just as brutal as ever. The island had changed them and not for the better.

Ralph soon became a target for their banter. While they never usually took a regular victim, the blonde was the "special case". Their toy. Not a single one of them seemed bothered by what happened on the island, and didn't regret the dumpster beatings, swirlies, taunts, teases, profanity and stealing homework that they treated Ralph to nearly on a daily bases. No one was as worse, though, as Jack and Roger.

Ralph hissed as the edges of the ice dug into his bruise and he tried to measure the cold properly. He sighed. After being less and less responsive, most of the boys had left him alone. Now, only Roger and Jack were treating him badly. But the others were always bystanders and that was just as worse.

"Ralphie. You ok?"

Ralph jerked back, the forgotten bag of ice sliding down his spine and onto the bed. His eyes locked on red hair first then still blue eyes before it took in the entire condescending face.

Jack was leaning on the doorframe with his arms folded and mouth curled into a little grin. The secretary behind him was talking on the phone, looking away from them. With only one move, Jack could trap Ralph in the small room. But he didn't. He just stared. Ralph wasn't really scared of him anymore, but he still got tense and jittery around the red head. He thought he would never get over the feeling of being a prey to Jack Merridew, and Jack Merridew only.

"I'm fine" Ralph motioned, in, what he hoped, was a neutral voice.

"That's good. Hilton wanted me to check up on you."

Damn you, coach! But he was only being considerate. And he _was_ the only helpful teacher when it came to the bullying. More helpful then every other teacher Jack and Ralph were in class with.

Ralph nodded a little, half expecting Jack to leave. He didn't, just then. He instead observed Ralph's form, from his flailing hair to his crumpled shorts. Ralph was completely helpless, just the way Jack liked him to be.

"Little pig, you should watch where you're going next time."

Ralph shivered outwardly and looked away from the other teenager. Content with the reaction, Jack sneered and left.

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**Gah! That ended up to be longer then I expected!**

**Review and tell me what you think of it so far, please!**

**Criticism is always welcomed!**

**I will try to update whenever I can! **

**I have two other stories going and hopefully I can always have time for this!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for the reviews!**

**I love them!**

**Just finished the 1990's movie version of the book! **

**It really scared me…**

**But either way, please enjoy this next instalment!**

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Jack grabbed the rough white handle of his fridge and practically torn the door open with a rush. He was on his knees immediately, rummaging through the transparent cabinets at the very bottom. He pushed aside two pears and reached right down to the last ripe and healthy apple, lost amongst the bags of oranges. Taking it out, and without washing it, Jack bit into the red skin, tearing it easily with his sharp teeth, and sucked in the wet juice inside. Turning, he kicked the door closed with his slipper-covered foot and leaned against the sink across from the fridge, smiling and enjoying the taste of his snack.

"Jack! Is that you, hunny?" he mom called from upstairs. Jack rolled his eyes.

Biting into his fruit again, he replied, "No, dear. It's me, Bryon. I decided to come home early because I care about you."

There was silence above. Then a small shuffling sound and a murmured "ok" before a door slammed and there was silence again. Jack rubbed his cheek and didn't grin at his little act. He was too angry with his mother. Looking down at the hardly eaten apple, Jack's mouth twisted and he abandoned the fruit, throwing it into the empty sink before picking up his school bag and heading upstairs.

Jack Merridew was a fortunate child, most said. He had a big house, a good education, close friends and loving parents. If you could call them that. He never said anything when people praised him. Because they were all morons, idiots who knew nothing about anything. Especially about him and how he felt. Whenever someone would pat his shoulder and exclaim about his lucky life, Jack had to bit down on the inside of his cheek to resist punching that someone right in the mouth. He could almost feel the cracking of a jaw and the shattering of teeth against his white knuckles. He knew violence. And then that someone would never speak to him again and he would be happy.

Jack threw his tattered bag to the ground inside his spacious bedroom and jumped onto his queen sized bed, the red satin rubbing against his tanned complexion in an uncomfortable way. He sighed and let his eyes flutter closed, basking in the quietness and his memories.

Unlike most of the guys he surrounded himself with, Jack recounted his time on the island almost everyday, going over what he remembered, how he felt and his relationship with each boy. With every memory he remembered, Jack felt more and more frozen, not with a sense of wrong-doing but a sense of detachment. Like he somehow had convinced himself that he was never apart of the island and what he did there didn't matter to anyone or anything.

Perhaps his sub-conscience side had blocked it out after he had returned. That's what Don, his therapist, had concluded. But Jack knew better. He knew that his 12 year old form had been blocking the sights and decisions he made every step of the way. Because he had been the Chief and the Chief had to be unreachable, physically, emotionally and mentally.

"Jack…" a soft hushed voice, sounded from his door. The red head's eyes slowly opened and he glared at nothing. "Jack, what would you like for dinner?"

"I don't care" he answered coldly. There was no answer from his mother. Jack chanced to look up and see if she was still there. She was.

Amelia Merridew was a skinny, short, woman with long chestnut coloured hair and big almond eyes. Her face was heart shaped and her complexion was pale but healthy. She had once worked as a successful real estate agent and traveled quite a bit which was the reason Jack had no real love for her, even till now. But after the island, she had quit her job and worked in smaller businesses in the UK only, convinced she had been at fault for what happened to Jack. Which was completely stupid.

She was now standing crookedly hidden in the shadows of the doorframe wrapped up in a fluffy pink robe and her eyes looked sadly but curiously at her son. Jack hated that look.

Amelia nodded, "I'll call you when it's done" she whispered and shut the door quietly. She had become quite a mute woman since Jack had been restored to her and she ceased to care about the creased lines betraying her real age.

If Jack had disliked his mother when she was uptight, unsmiling and cold, he quickly hated this softer and inaudible replacement.

But that didn't mean Jack took his father's side in things. Not at all. In fact, he butted out of any argument his parents got heated over and did whatever it took to avoid them. Because the number of disagreements between them increased from when he was 12 to now as a 17 year old. And he knew it was because of him which did not bother him.

Bryon Merridew was a tough no-nonsense business tycoon who took his job more seriously then his family. As far as Jack could remember, his dad was hardly ever home. He remembered when he was 5 that he didn't know at all what his dad looked like and that was because Bryon had never changed his routine of going to work before Jack woke up and returning after days at his job after Jack was asleep. Every single time. Jack had never thought about staying up late to wait for him.

After the island, his father made a little shift but that was it. Not as drastically as his mother. Bryon still went to work early then came late but he _was_ come home more often then not, but it wasn't a big change. Jack had never blamed anyone for what he had become on the island, but if anyone had been a role model for the way he leaded, it was his father.

Jack didn't remember when he dozed off but the scent of roasted garlic bread brought him back to reality. And he had been having such a nice dream of hunting pigs across a furious landscape of trees and rocks.

The red head pushed himself off the bed and changed into regular clothes; jeans and a white T-shirt, before strutting downstairs to where his mother, not their usual chef, was hunched over the oven, blowing something and stirring a pot of red pepper soup. Jack made a face but said nothing. He made his way to the table and sat down quietly in front of a crystal clean plate, and cutleries with swirling designs on their tips. He noticed that there was only one other group across from him. Good. At least his mom was starting to accept again that his father didn't eat anything at home ever.

"How was school?" his mother's voice chirped brightly, as she brought the pot to the table and poured soup into Jack's bowl. It's spicy scent itched his nose.

"It was fine."

"And choir practice? How are all the boys?"

"I'm doing well, and they're ok." Jack really felt malice towards these mom-to-son chats at the dinner table and at night time. His mouth deepened his frown and he slurped some soup, ignoring the bitter taste as it went down his throat.

"And how about that new boy? Ralph, was it? Have you guys been connecting well?"

To this, Jack's frown turned into an upright smile. Ralph was an interesting topic for him. He wasn't sure where to start with the blonde. His mom knew well enough, after Jack told her, that Ralph had been one of the boys that had been trapped on the island with him. Amelia Merridew was convinced that Jack could ease the "pain" of being on that piece of land by being around the other boys who shared his experience. Little did she know that rejoining his band of hunters had only made Jack regain that dangerous and feral leadership once again. Even she didn't know every wild party he threw, every rule he broke in school, every littleun he made cry. Course, the "littleuns" were freshman, not 6 year olds.

But even with the fun he got out of it, Jack hated this protection everyone gave him. The protection so that his perfect image would not be tarnished. His parents, the neighbourhood, the schools, even the Church. They didn't accept that Jack was anything less then a perfectly civilized and well-brought up boy. They shielded their eyes and believed that the island was only a small bump in his life and that his rebelliousness would soon pass.

It had been four years. You'd think they'd have wizen up and realized that this _was_ who he is. A harsh, violent human being who loved to be in control, loved to be obeyed and loved to be _feared_. Oh, yes. He fed _off_ of fear. If he could, he wouldn't need anything else but the taste of over-powering another living thing, of destroying them from the inside out, of corrupting their minds, of reminding them that _he was power_. He was _everything_.

Jack swirled his soup and blew the steam. "Yep. We've become close friends."

"That's good, that's good!" his mother nodded happily. "You should invite him over sometime!"

Wouldn't Ralph love _that_? Jack could already imagine the look the teen would give him if he suggested such a thing. The imagery made the red head chuckle.

On the first day, Jack had been too preoccupied with discussing the latest insane party that had taken place at Roger's to notice the blonde who had been ushered to sit right in front of Jack. And even afterwards, Jack had, had only a small remembrance of the new kid. He didn't much care for such things. The newbie would soon fear and listen to him, like the rest of the school.

Yet it had only taken one glance, one small eye contact between the two old rivals during a choir practice, for Jack's feelings towards Ralph to unfurl and explode. All the hatred, all the admiration, all the memories of sharp sticks and hunting flooded Jack's senses like a tidal wave at that moment. But calm and cool, like the chief he was, he merrily hid his feelings and winked in the blonde's direction. The answer he received was very fulfilling.

From then on Ralph had sunk back into being Jack's prey. But instead of killing him, which he knew no one was going to hide, he decided to torture the boy in many ways that society was used to seeing but did not stop. It was perfect. And even when Ralph stopped looking like it bothered him, Jack always knew the right buttons to press, the right words to whisper. He knew Ralph all too well.

Jack didn't need the other boys, not even Roger Paling, who were feverishly bored with Ralph. He, by himself, could make the teenager's life, even after the island, a living hell. Some would call it obsession. Perhaps Jack would agree with that. Ralph was the one prey that had escaped him. And he couldn't stand that, not for a single moment. So he exploited the fate of meeting him again.

Jack finished his lunch – grounded meet loaf and mashed potatoes – quickly and raced back upstairs to his room. He never started homework immediately, always choosing to call a former hunter or his latest hook-up. But, too tired to do that even, Jack threw himself on his bed again and this time, kept his eyes open, looking up at his prickly white ceiling above, smiling like a madman.

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Ralph scratched his forehead, and plopped down onto his rotating seat. Dinner was great today. Freshly cooked, hot-sauce covered shrimp. His father had sent the best of the best from his trip to Japan to his family. Ralph noted that he would need to send his father a thank you letter or something. Even though he wasn't there, still stationed in Kazakhstan, it was great that he had still managed to connect easily with him. He knew his mother loved the shrimp especially since she was in love with seafood.

Ralph let a grin brush his features before yawning and grabbing a book from his case. He dropped the heavy Math textbook in front of him onto his rickety wooden desk. The blonde never thought of replacing the counter, loving to see all the carvings he had made over the years etched in black all over. There were pictures of large dragons and imaginary monsters, as well as ships and planes. Text was also engraved into the fine oak, words of the past and perhaps of the future.

The teenager slid his fingers over a certain section of the desk. It was the farthest corner, sinking into darkness even when the lights were flickered on. It was his most personal area of the furniture. It was every single picture or word he had chiselled after the experience on the island. If someone were to compare that corner to the rest of the desk, one would conclude that the corner was much messier, less clear and possibly a lot more darker. Sometimes meaningless lines were deeply chipped into the wood, so deep that it almost went through to the next piece of oak.

But Ralph could read it. He could read it all and feel the emotions of four years pass rising up and chocking him till he blinked tears away.

There were about a dozen pictures of pigs, in all positions, and lines representing stakes going through each one. One pig was special though. While the rest of it's body was missing, it's head, it's soulless, evil eyes, glared up at you, while it's mouth, ceased by a driving stick, grinned devilishly.

Ralph remembered that frantic night, waking up after a goulash dream, grabbing the scissors that had been so continently left on his desk, and carving the image of the Lord of the Flies as detailed and furiously as possible. When he was done, he had thrown the scissors across the room and gone back to sleep

Every time he saw it now he would shiver, frightened by his own art.

Now his attention was driven to the texts. Like the pictures, they, too, were crazy and hard to read. Some were repeated words such as 'savage' and 'fire' written in upper case letters and underlines many times with blue. With one word that taken up half the corner, 'Jack', Ralph had crossed the name and inked it with a red pen. How creative.

To finish of his ceremonial checking on the area, Ralph expressively grazed the two gravestones that were on either side of the hated name. One had the clean words SIMON JARELD: ISLAND VICTIM scratched inside. Ralph gave off a soft sigh and bit his lips. Simon had been the most civil of them all. And he had been killed in cold murder. The blonde's fingers then moved to the second gravestone. It had taken him a year and a half of searching but he finally discovered his greatest friend's name. HARRY THOMAS: ISLAND VICTIM. Piggy had been the smartest of them all. And _he_ had been killed in cold murder.

_Jack_. Ralph grinded his teeth and, with his curled fist, punched the name in the middle of the two pictures. Jack _Merridew_. The monster, the beast, the devil himself. Oh how Ralph hated him! Living and breathing, having a good life and a future, smiling each day, free of the lost innocence. Simon and Piggy deserved that! Not him!

_And neither me_, Ralph whispered to himself, in an attempt to calm down. He brought his burning hand to his chest and breathed deeply. He was just as responsible for everything as Jack was. At least, he saw, he was living for Piggy and Simon, not just for himself. And that kept him going up to this point.

Ralph raked his fingers through his hair and sucked in some oxygen before letting it out and leaning into his work.

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**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks so much for the sweet reviews!**

**Please enjoy!**

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Ralph had taken two caplets of aspirin that morning to cure a mysterious headache that had formed the minute he was out of bed.

The blonde yawned and rubbed his temple with his right fist. It didn't help but it made him feel a bit better. He blinked out tears of exhaustion and fixed himself a glass of milk and two waffles. He ate them quietly, covered by his home's warmth and darkness. It was 6:15 a.m. so it was no surprise that his on-the-clock off-the-clock chef mother wasn't up that Monday. Therefore, Ralph spent his morning alone, which was no problem since his mom always set up his lunch ready for him to make.

Ralph finished his breakfast, packed his stuff and slung the heavy black backpack over his shoulder before exiting his home, being sure to shut off the alarm on his way out. The annoying beeping sounded like crowds of high-pitched island birds screaming and he just hated that sound.

It was still very dark outside, the sun just peeking over the horizon of tarnished and classic buildings. His neighbourhood wasn't the greenest place in London but it was much spacious and he enjoyed the long fields of grass and trees, and the dirt patch that trailed along side the wide concrete street. At the corner, about five other students from his school awaited the bus. Some were bent over, rejecting the hot dawn and others were chatting.

One particular boy looked up and flashed Ralph a beaming smile.

"Good morning!" the brunette chirped, jumping from his seated place in the grass and rushing to stand next to Ralph. The blonde smiled down at the much shorter freshman.

Henry Sales hadn't really change as much as the other choirboys. He was still pretty skinny and short with his high cheek bones making him look like he was smiling all the time. His eyes were bigger, now, and the colour of melted caramel. It was hard to see if you weren't looking for it but this former littleun seemed, though extremely friendly, to carry an certain air about him that didn't fit his small form. In fact, Ralph had noticed all the surviving boys had that very same feeling. A misplaced ambience. Ralph had been told that himself multiple times, not just by his parents.

But Henry had definitely turned away from his savage past and pressed forward. It had taken about a week for him and Ralph to finally meet and get a chance to chat. The blonde found out that the minute Henry was back in school, he quit the choir, never looking back, and made new friends. He was top of his class in history and volunteered at shelters, helping those who were still facing the backlash of the Cold War. Henry admitted to Ralph quietly from time to time that he still cried about what had happened at the island and came to the realization of what he did, and that he was truly, truly sorry.

With those lovely eyes staring up at him, gleaming with newfound tears, Ralph just couldn't help but forgive him. Henry later proved his apology and the two became close friends. Especially after Ralph had found out that after hearing the news about Henry's departure, Jack and his boys hunted the former littleun down and harassed him for a long time.

When they were by themselves during one empty recess, he had shown Ralph the scar Roger inflicted on his left shoulder blade. Against his pale skin, the mark was like watermelon juice dribbling down. It was long, and soft and sensitive to the touch and, not helping himself, Ralph hugged Henry and let him cry on his shoulder.

Ralph smirked and brought his hand down on the freshman's head, ruffling his brown hair a little. "Good morning."

Henry chuckled and adjusted his bangs.

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Maurice Keel blew a large pink bubble and let it pop, the sticky substance of his gum latching onto his chin and cheeks. He blinked a couple of times then went to work on picking the pieces of his face. Robert Lobdale sniggered at this display and punched the boy in the arm. Maurice shoved him in return and they had a small banter as they waited for Jack and Roger in front of Robert's red Toyota.

Some of the other choirboys were also there but weren't leaning on the car like Maurice and Robert. They were either picking at trees, or pacing around. None were smiling but there was a hint of humour in their demeanour. A kind of silly look on their faces that scared people. Like they were all sharing an inside joke. Well, it wasn't so much of a joke as it was a secret. A secret they kept zipped up and stored in their memories and nightmares.

Jack Merridew came trotting over, his stride confident and almost egotistical. Roger Paling trailed behind him, his footsteps heavier and darker. Like he was going into war. St the sight of the Chief and second-in-command, the other boys crowded around Robert's car and were silent, waiting for Jack to speak.

The redhead looked at them all. The growth after four years was truly astounding. They were all bigger, tougher looking, their cold eyes glazed, and their faces set and ready. The act of being pure choirboys was diminished whenever they were around each other in privacy. They regained their natural looks of predators and Jack cursed over the fact that they all could never be who they _truly_ were in public.

"There's going to be a feast," the red head started and smiled. Everyone else smiled, too, at the familiar line. But this time, 'feast' was a code word for 'party' and those were just as fun and feisty as the tribal banquets on the island.

"Where will it be, Chief?" Bill Noyes asked, cocking his head to the side, letting hair the colour of red wine fall into his eyes.

"My place this time," Jack pointed to himself with his thumb. "Bring anyone you'd like. This is a feast for the beginning of the school year." Never mind the fact that they were well into October. Jack just felt like he needed a reason to feed the others boys. "That is all."

The teenagers didn't move but nodded in an almost simultaneous gesture. They were so connected, to a point were they hardly realized it.

Roger looked up into the clear blue sky, squinted then turned to the side, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets.

"Chief," he said.

They tuned into Roger's vision. All eyes locked on a blurry boy with fair blonde hair and wide blue eyes, clutching his black backpack and waving goodbye to a traitor before walking across the parking lot in a slumping motion. He didn't seem to notice the many sets of eyes on him. Only Jack smiled. The others looked either bored or a little excited.

"Are you still after him?" Maurice asked, slumping at his friend's car. Many of the hunters really _had_ gotten bored of Ralph's lack of reactions but when the Chief commanded it, they followed.

Roger cocked his head to the side and whispered something Jack's ear. He was grinning.

There was a pause of silence from Jack as the other boys continued to watch Ralph make his way to the front doors of the school. It came as amazement for them that they had once followed the male. He _was_ a confident and good leader. But Jack's attitude reeled them in easily.

The Chief chuckled and that nearly made some of the boys jump. He was leaning into his second in command but said aloud, "that's a good idea, Roger."

* * *

Ralph took his seat in his homeroom class and slid out a book tucked deep in his pack. English was never his best subject but he enjoyed writing and wondered if maybe one day he himself would be an author, and write fantastic and historical books about wars and fighters. And perhaps, he thought, a "fictional" story about his time on the island could be his first book. Yeah. He imagined it. He remembered every little detail. The thought of incorporating it all in a novel for others to read was a little exciting and embarrassing. And the title of it would be "Lord of the Flies". Perfect.

As he checked to see if his pen still had ink in it, Ralph noticed a smudge of black at the corner of his eye. He looked over to see Kathy Williams laughing aloud at a joke Amy Velcro had said. Both girls were waving their arms and putting their hands to their mouths. They were across the room from him and the other students didn't look their way. Except for Ralph. He had a major crush on Kathy and it had started the tomorrow of his first day.

Kathy Williams was a short, plump girl with natural rosy red cheeks and short, thick curly black hair the colour of midnight and small brown eyes. She was a little popular and was apart of the small but serious welcoming committee at the large school. She had been the first to walk up to Ralph and talk to him. Kathy was his tour guide for the whole day and even offered to help him catch up after school on different subjects even if she wasn't all that great in some subjects. With her cheery personality, cute features and determined eyes, Ralph couldn't help but fall for her. It was also great to know that that, he found from Henry, she was not one of Jack Merridew's rebound girlfriends.

The only problem was he just couldn't talk to her. Not because he was shy, oh no. Ralph felt like he could give it a shot with Kathy and if he struck out, he would be heartbroken but ok. He knew well enough there were worse things then being rejected by a crush. It was very simple, though, why he couldn't talk to her.

Two words. Jack Merridew. He was his prey and he knew that he would never be left alone.

Ralph had made it a rule for himself to not make any close friends. He had learned first hand what Jack would have his tribe do to anyone that dared get close to Ralph. He didn't see it coming at first, though.

After one week, Ralph had befriended a boy in his math class called Earl Major, a dark-skinned, comedic teenager with a bright smile. When Merridew had heard word of their relationship, he had sent Robert, Roger and Bill to handle Earl. Ralph never learned what they had done; only that they had gotten very physical and that Earl had moved away _from the_ _country _the next day. Ralph had been horrified but did not confront Jack about it. What did he have to say to the red head anyways? "That was mean"? Or better yet "that was a dirty trick"…

After that, Jack pushed Ralph to become very anti-social, never bringing home a friend for dinner and hardly chatting with any of the students outside of school. He couldn't avoid everyone but he made it a mission to not block out their kindness.

And his fellow classmates didn't make _that_ difficult. Ralph wasn't unpopular, but after they heard of Earl, not even the teachers continuously talked or hung out with him. They practically avoided him in the same way he did as if he was a disease. No one wanted to be there during Jack's onslaught. And the blonde never blamed them. Merridew was a true monster. But Henry and Kathy still were always there so he knew he would never _really_ succumb to the badgering of the savage tribe.

But there was so much that a boy like him could take.

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"And then Poppy jumped right into the pool and got dog hair everywhere!" Kathy giggled, "My mom was so mad! Tracy was grounded for two weeks!"

Ralph nodded and blushed as Kathy's manicured hand brush against his arm in a soft way. Ok. So they couldn't be friends and Ralph couldn't risk asking Kathy out. But there was nothing wrong with her voluntarily walking beside him, trying to start up a normal conversation between strangers, at the end of the school day as everyone raced to the school buses. Jack couldn't be stupid enough to think there was anything _really_ going on here…right?

"I wish I had a dog" Ralph piped in, scratching the back of his head. "I used to have one, but she died when I was 11."

"Ah," Kathy's smile vanished, and Ralph cursed himself. "I'm so sorry!"

"Yeah, it's ok. She was quite old. My dad got her before I was even born." Ralph smiled uneasily, "but I'd love to get a golden retriever. They're pretty fun to play with."

A smile returned to Kathy's face, lighting up her expression, and she nodded. "They're really pretty to look at, too!" The blonde nodded in agreement.

They had just passed under a bridge and now were walking down the sidewalk to the parking lot. Some seniors were chatting at their own cars and Ralph spotted Robert cleaning the lining of his Toyota. When he looked up, Ralph looked away. Robert had been one of the littleuns, sure, but he wasn't that much younger then Jack and Roger so it was no surprise he had a car by now. Ralph didn't even though he had a licence. But he planned to get one soon. The blonde had developed a paranoia about walking home or to places by foot since he found out Jack and his gang ruled the city pretty much. It wasn't safe to go out anymore.

"Oh!" Kathy chirped, surprised and nearly jumped into Ralph's arms. He caught her, a little embarrassed at their position, and looked up. His face hardened.

"What do you want?" he asked in a voice that sounded borderline menacing.

Jack Merridew had a wide, condescending smile on his face and he kicked some dirt in front of him away. Roger was with him, of course, and gave Ralph a playful look.

"How are ya, Ralphie?" the red-head asked, flipping his hair back and eyeing both participants. Ralph did not answer him, choosing to glare instead.

"We were just wondering if you'd would be interested in coming to a party this weekend," Roger reported, stepping forward now. Jack nodded. "Hosted by the Chief of course."

Ralph sneered at the "Chief" remark but Kathy blinked, clearly confused. Obviously, she had never seen one of Jack's parties and that comforted Ralph. The hoedowns that took place in the Merridew estate, and almost every estate belonging to a savage, were something to be talked, envied and disgusted about. And being the second-class prey, Ralph had never been to a party like theirs. So _this_ was too suspicious.

Before he could say "no", or even "hell no", Jack spoke up.

"You can come too, of course, Ms. Williams," he said in a hushed tone with feral eyes. Ralph _did not_ like that look. "It'll be fun and I'd really love for you to be there."

"I don't think so," Ralph commented roughly, and gripped Kathy's arms. She looked up at him, still bewildered, and glanced back at Jack. He was staring at Ralph with the oddest look in his eyes before bringing his attention back to her. She had never really liked the red head. He seemed rude and cocky and dumped her best friend Amy on the spot after only four days of dating in front of his own friends.

But he seemed quite honest now, even with the strange look he was giving her, and she had the worst habit of saying no to someone.

"What about you, Kathy?" Roger asked.

"Um…well, I could…ask my parents and see….but I don't know."

Ralph wanted to scream at her. She was making a huge mistake! And anyone could easily see that through the way Jack's eyes glazed over and he smiled wider.

"Oh that's great! Ask tonight. I need to know how many are coming."

This was an odd thing to say since everyone Jack personally invited would invite their owns friends, and their friends' friend and so on. Merridew never knew how many people came to his party. Never.

"And Ralph," the red head chuckled, "I hope you show up too." And with another sly look from Jack, he and Roger stalked off towards Robert who had watched the whole scene with a blank face.

"Please come with me," Kathy suddenly said, turning, still in Ralph's arms. He let go. "I don't want to go alone. I can never keep track of Amy and I'm…" she blushed, "sort of scared of wandering around alone…" Ralph stared down at his petite crush.

Well fuck.

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**Gah! Too long again!**


	4. Chapter 4

**It's so hard to make these things shorter…-sigh- **

**Thank you again for the awesome reviews again!**

**It's sweet to read them~~!**

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Ralph stared up at his ceiling, but wasn't really looking at it. His mind was clearly somewhere else. His eyes danced across the canopy and pulled his hands out from under his head, unbalancing his head, causing it to fall back and for his forehead to touch the cold mahogany headboard with a small thud. Ralph sighed and closed his eyes. He was in a real pickle. Not only was he planning to go to a party hosted by his hated enemy, but he had the responsibility of the whole night to keep Kathy by his side and away from the animals that would easily target her. And he _didn't_ mean the animals in the woods surrounding Jack's house.

Ralph opened his eyes and hoisted himself up into a sitting position. He remembered the knowing, cruel look Jack had given him just before heading to his ride. He knew what Jack was doing when he invited Kathy. Ralph had been stupid to think that his rival couldn't see the feelings he had for the girl, and obviously used her to lure in the blonde. That had been crystal clear.

But that last glance. It was a look implanted in his mind through the drive home. It was also a recognizable bearing but one underlined in mystery. For the first time since he parted with Jack Merridew, he was at a lose for what he was up to. And this scared the blonde more than it should.

"Ralph!"

Ralph perked and darted for his door, opening it wide and letting in the dim lights of his hallway. "Yeah, mum?" he called.

"Someone's on the phone for you!"

Henry! That was just what Ralph needed. A good distraction. Henry had said he would call for his help in geometry, Ralph's best unit. The blonde went for his red cordless phone. His father had bought it for him so that Ralph wouldn't get attached to the new-found technology called 1G (_AUTHOR_: What they used to call a cell phone in it's earlier days…this is still like the 1970s, people!) which could disrupt his studying like it had done to other teenagers.

"Hey Hen-"

"Yo, Ralphie!"

Ralph stopped dead in his sentence and bit his tongue automatically. What the hell?

"Jack…"

"One and only."

Ralph couldn't remember the last time the red head's voice had stopped him in his tracks. But more importantly:

He gulped. "How did you get my number?"

There was a small 'hmph' then, "Your precious littlun, Henry. Roger hadn't even touch him before he started singing like a canary for us. Not a great friend you have there, Ralph. Nope, not at all." And Jack laughed whole-heartedly. Ralph gripped the edges of his desk and dug his nails into the wood, gritting his teeth.

"Keep away from him from him, Merridew."

"Oh? Who says?"

"I say. You played a dirty trick."

The red head laughed again but longer now. He _really_ thought this was a game.

"Enough with the role-playing, now, Ralphie. I've got another invitation for you" Jack's voice quieted a bit, like he was trying to talk without someone hearing him. "Let's meet down at Carlies Creek in 10 minutes. I don't think we ever got to properly chat like old times."

"I don't want to **chat** with you." Ralph spat the word 'chat' out like venom.

Jack's voice was sickly sweet. Ralph wanted to throw up. "Then would you rather _me_ pick _you_ up? I'd _love_ to meet your darling mother! Does she look like you?"

The blonde knew where this was going with that last comment and it made him feel relieved a bit. Maybe _now_ he could read the red head. There was nothing better then understanding your hunter the way he understood you.

"I'll be there," he mumbled. Better to tango with the devil when he can see him.

"Great! See ya then!" and Jack hung up, leaving Ralph alone and suddenly cold.

* * *

"Invite him over someday!" Mrs. Falun chirped happily and kissed her son's forehead. Ralph had grown taller then her and now he needed to bend down to get a kiss. He smiled and patted his mom's arm. "This is so great Ralph! Maybe with a friend, you can open up more in school."

Jenna Falun was a slender woman with well-built shoulders and short glossy blonde hair, a few shades lighter then Ralph's. Her blue eyes were tender and her face was soft and almost young looking. Ralph adored his mother's soft skin and it was one of the many things he had missed dearly while on the island.

"Be polite and all!" she called after him as he made his way down the sidewalk. Ralph waved at her, smiled and said no more. If only his mother knew. This could be the last time she saw him.

The whole situation was suicide. He realized that fully. Being alone with Jack Merridew? At an abandoned creek no less? It was obvious that Ralph might as well be walking to his execution. Perhaps this was the day the red head would get rid of his last prey once and for all and be done with it. Then he could join Piggy and Simon and they could play together again…he wondered if they would recognize him…

Ralph hadn't realized that as he contemplated that thought, tears formed against his eyelids and slinked down his cheek slowly.

* * *

The annoying summer sun beat down on Jack as it began it's descent across the horizon. His red hair was hot to the touch and he knew he'd have an unusual tan at the back of his neck. The sky was highlighted in purple and blue, and the earlier stars began to twinkle. He scratched his arms and slapped a mosquito that had landed on his hand. Of course, he caught it, made a face and threw the dead thing on the ground, clasping his hands together to futilely clean them. Jack groaned and looked down the sidewalk.

Ralph was late. 20 minutes late. Merridew wondered if he had chickened out or something. That thought angered Jack so much; he kicked a rock near him hard, having it tumble down the wet, green bank and plunge into the brown water, making a rather loud sound and frightening small fish. _Ralph was not allowed to turn down an invite from his Chief_. Who did he think he was!? Jack let himself relax and loosen his tight muscles. A large hand raked through his warm red hair and he growled ferocity.

"Losing your temper, Jack?" a low cracking voice sounded.

Merridew turned and saw Ralph standing a little rigid, eyes dilated and a little puffy. His cheeks were red and his hair a little messy, bangs falling against his forehead. He reached up and pulled them back in vain as they fell back down again. He was dressed just as casually as Jack, in worn our jeans and a black long sleeved shirt, clearly showing the outline of his upper form. Merridew wondered if Falun had been eating well lately or not. He looked as skinny as he had when on the island as a 12 year old. But instead of looking like an up-and-coming boxer, Ralph was slim in a fitting way for his age.

Jack looked the teenager up and down before smiling. Ralph openly shivered and this enticed the red head even more. His skin looked unfazed by the sun and was pale with tints of yellow here and there. It was obvious he had been crying for one reason or another. This didn't really bother Jack. The littleuns used to cry a lot while under him. For many different reasons, of course. Jack scratched the bit mark he had gotten from the mosquito and gestured to Ralph to join him down at the wetter part of the bank, his hands returning to the pockets of his black denim pants. With a slight hesitation and a muscle twitch in his hand, Ralph approached his enemy and came to stand right by him. Jack looked out onto the small creek.

"You know, they say this place is haunted," he began, his smile turning sly and secretive. "A Russian spy had been murdered here by a Brit man with a gun. His name was Carlies. That's where it got it's name."

Ralph had a feeling the red head was just stalling. But why? To heighten the tension? He clenched his hands into fists and bit down on his tongue. He narrowed his eyes cruelly at Jack who could feel the glare on him like the sun, hot and angry. He hoped his face wasn't giving anything away. That would ruin the fun. And the surprised.

"I think it's just stupid that the Soviets tried to get in on the British technology," Jack laughed and finally met Ralph's brown eyes with his ice blue ones. "We never had anything special for them to spy on, don't you agree? How's your history mark?"

"Cut the crap," Ralph hissed.

"And _I'm_ the one with the temper?" Jack laughed again. He stepped a little closer to Ralph till his face was mere inches away from the blonde. From here, he could see those large eyes more clearly. They were in fact the colour of hazelnut, not dark chocolate as he had thought. The two rivals had a small stare-off before Ralph broke the silence.

"What do you want?"

Merridew's eyes wondered, as if he was thinking about something, "Are you coming to the party?"

Ralph made a face. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on Ralphie! You know what I mean," Jack's fingers lightly brushed the other's chin and Falun stepped back. "I'd hate to think what would happen to Ms. Williams without her knight there. You know I can't control everything that happens at my parties…"

"I'm warning you Jack. Stay away from her."

Jack stepped forward and pressed against Ralph's shoulder. "So you're gonna be there?"

There was a hesitation. The red head could see Ralph's eyes search his face, looking for hints and cracks to strike at. But in all honesty, this was not a trick question. Ralph just _thought_ it was. Which was pretty funny as he sub- consciously scrunched his face up, lifting his cheeks and pouting his lips. Jack's mouth twitched.

"I already promised her that I would," he finally said, and titled his head to the side.

The sun was now barley an outline of yellow and orange, shimmering like a dieing lamp light against the darkened sky. A wind picked up and ruffled some scattered leaves, shaking the branches of near-by trees unsteadily. The moon peeked out at looked down at the two boys from an impossible height, while crickets began their song.

"You must really like her," Jack commented finally, scratching the bug bit and frowning at it. "I'm not exactly sure what you like about her though. She seems really naïve, and clueless. Isn't it annoying?"

"Just cause she doesn't date you doesn't mean she's stupid, Merridew" Ralph chewed, turning away from the other.

"Oh, on the contrary, Ralph, she is smart. _Too_ smart. That's why she's annoying." Jack watched as Ralph's eyes shifted from the creek to the bank then up to the sky. "Bimbos are the way to. They don't bother you about stuff and listen when you have to say something."

"That's definitely what you love, Jack," Ralph was now glaring at him in a calm deadliness, "being listened to. No criticism from anyone. No room for any opinions. Always pressing your beliefs on others."

Jack shook his head. "I'd thought you knew me better then that, Falun."

Ralph gave him a half confused half annoyed look. Before he could even retort, Jack took one more step and, with his arm, shoved the blonde on the ground harshly. Ralph fell like a boulder, his elbows sinking into the soft soil underneath. His black shirt and jeans were instantly wet and splashes of mud attack his cheek. He breathed hard, the wind having been knocked out of him, and struggled to make himself less vulnerable. But that was impossible as Jack was on him at an instant, pressing his strong hands against Ralph's chest. The blonde soon ceased his shifting, knowing full well that with Merridew's weight on him, he wouldn't be able to get up. He instead continued to catch his breath and stare up, trying to see the face of his enemy past his messy bangs.

"Don't worry, though," Jack finally spoke, "we'll get to know each other real well soon, Ralphie."

"Merridew!" Ralph gasped angrily.

Jack's hands were know trailing up the blonde's chest, over the collar of his black shirt, and onto his neck where they stopped. Suddenly, pressure was being added to Ralph's oesophagus and he coughed as Jack's thumbs dung into the flash. A maniacal grin laced itself against the red head's face and he cackled out loud.

This was the end. Ralph knew it. And he was scared to death even though he saw it coming. But in the humour of it all, he had really expected Jack to be a little more creative. Strangling was so old-school. Was he just going to dump his dead body into the river? Where was the agony of death? What happened to the Jack Merridew from the island?

_Well, no bother trying to figure that out_, he thought as he coughed again. Ralph closed his eyes and waited for the final push, the last added crushing that would make him see white dots against his eyelids before he lost all oxygen and died with a headache. But it didn't come, and Ralph was getting more annoyed then scared. What was going on? What's with the stalling _again_!?

Ralph opened his eyes and prepared to face Jack's lets-torture-you-a-little-longer face. Yet he only met with blue eyes, glazed like shining diamonds. And suddenly there was pressure. But not from where he had expected. Ralph's eyes widened, his cheek burned, and his mind finally followed, kicking in and panicking. Oh. My. God. Jack Merridew was kissing him.

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**Hope you liked it!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Oh jeez, I may have to do this all the time XD**

**Thanks again, **_**again**_** for the reviews!!**

**You know I love you guys :D!**

**And I really gotta pick the pace up!**

* * *

Henry checked himself in the mirror, frowned and fixed a loose thread of brown hair caught on his sideburns. It was getting late and outside the day was slinking into the darkness of night. Stars twinkled lovely against the black curtain above and the lights of Liverpool's lamps filled the empty grey streets like a rug. Inside a well-kept, innocent white house, Henry Sales was cleaning himself up for Jack Merridew's party. He fixed his white grey striped collar, brushing of flakes of dust from his cotton grey pants and set his mouth into a tight line. Merridew…

_At least Ralph's coming too_, he thought and tried for a smile. Without the fact that the blonde was also invited, Henry would have chickened out on going to the stupid party. But he knew the idea of Roger hunting him down would have pushed him there anyways.

Henry sighed and looked at his reflection. All this time, he had really wished to break out of his shell. He didn't want to be scared of Jack the way he was now and the way he was when they were sweet choirboys before the island. Merridew had always been harsh, cruel, and demanding and Henry had, had enough and broke out. He was ashamed to face his savage past and knew he could never take anything back but at least he was trying. That's what he told himself. When he saw Roger's dark shadow over him, Henry's whole resolution had crumbled and he shivered at the thought of the madman's black coal eyes boring into his skull.

Henry hated him. Him and Jack. But he was scared and, as he saw it, a coward and he knew that the tight grip the two had on him that was born on the island would never die no matter where he went or what he did. His parents didn't understand him. And the other 'littleuns' were God knows where. Ralph was his tie to sanity, really. He was always strong against the hunters and Henry admired Ralph fruitfully. He wondered what had led him to betray the blonde and the only answer was a red headed boy with a spear and a demon as his second-in-command.

Henry slapped himself and glared at the mirror. No point in thinking like that! He had to call Ralph!

The brunette bent over his table and reached for his phone lying messily against his bed. With quick, easy presses, ringing was heard across the other line. Henry had been nervous in talking to Ralph. After all, he had ratted him out like Samneric had and refused to call him for geometry help the next day. He was scared to hear Ralph rejecting his friendship or worse, extremely upset about the betrayal. So Henry held his breath in as he waited for the other boy to pick up, twiddling the front of his shirt.

There was a tick. "Hello?"

"Ralph? H-Hey it's Henry…" what was he to say now? He bit his lip. "Um…so tonight's the party and all…"

"Oh yeah. You're going?"

"Yeah I was invited." That was a stretch. More like Roger had threatened him to come when Jack was not within earshot.

"You want me to pick you up?" Ralph asked in a slow pace. Henry noted this strange tone in his friend's voice.

"Oh that's ok! Oliver is already taking me there." Oliver was Henry's older brother who was studying in a collage five miles away from Liverpool but came to visit every once and awhile. "Do you need to be picked up?"

There was a humourless laugh then, "no, it's fine. Thanks. I'll be driving myself and Kathy Williams."

"Ah alright," Henry was a little oblivious to Ralph's crush on Kathy. "So…I'll see you there then?"

"Yep."

There was a pause. Ralph was still on the other end as Henry could hear him breathing raptly.

"R-Ralph? Are you ok? You sound a bit…tired."

"Hm? Oh no, I'm just stressed over some tests and stuff. You know…" Ralph coughed, "well I gotta pick Kathy up now. See you there, Henry."

"Erm…yeah…seeya!"

Click. Click. Silence. Henry put his phone down on his bed and sighed out hoarsely. He chickened out _again_.

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_Quick, hard hands clasped against Ralph's struggling arms and Jack put his whole weight onto flattening the boy deeper into the soil. A tongue danced against the blonde's teeth and only when the red head pinched the fleshy part of his hands did Ralph open his mouth and let the slimy muscle in. He mumbled incoherently and kept on thrashing even though it was useless. Jack's tongue explored his mouth lavishly and a hand darted to the blonde's collar, pulling it down to bring more pale, sweating skin into view. This allowed Ralph to grip Jack's shoulders and struggle to pull him off roughly. In his last attempt, Ralph bit down hard against the devilish tongue and Jack broke the kiss with a slight hiss, a thin trail of saliva connecting his upper lip with the blonde's lower lip. It was broken when the red head smiled, straddling the teenager's hips._

"_Bet Williams can't kiss like _that_," he barked, laughing right after. Ralph's eyes met Jack's, unbelieving at what his enemy had just done. Both were breathing hard, and Merridew raked a hand through his now messy hair, licking his lips and reaching down to trail a finger through Ralph's. _

_Immediately, the blonde flung himself against Jack's body, causing both to tumble over and for Jack to land on his back against the clammy green grass. Before he could regain any composure, Ralph was on his feet and dashing as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn't stop till he was a few feet from his house and only then it was to catch his lost breath again. He knew his cheeks were redder then before and his lips were chapped and bruised. He winced, remembering what was just on them. A hand grazed his mouth and he clenched his eyes, forcing a lump of cold tears back down his throat._

_He could not believe what had just happened. It seemed too unreal. His mind couldn't process it then and he strutted back to his house as if he was limping. His muscles were tired from fighting off his rival and his soul was crushed deeply. As he got to his front porch, Ralph gripped his banister and bent down, trying to throw back up the taste of Jack Merridew in his mouth. This couldn't be happening to him...no, no, please…_

_Ralph cried again. He let his tears pour out of his eyelids, gaining no avail in his goal. _

_Now, he thought…now I can never join them…never join Simon and Piggy…even in death. They were pure and innocent and sweet. And I'm now tainted beyond recognition._

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The doorbell's sound filled Kathy Williams' tired blue house with a shrill. The raven-haired teenager looked up from her vanity table, half way done with applying some blush, and broke out into a smile.

"That's Ralph! Tracy get the door!" she called. Her younger sister, only with a two years age difference, came trotting out of her room in a loose white T-shirt and yoga pants. Her black-brown hair was tied in a ponytail and she held a pot of ice cream in her arms. Tracy took her spoon, scooped up some more vanilla and stuck in into her mouth, bored.

"Why don't you get it…"

"Tracy!"

Rolling her eyes, the younger Williams walked down her stairs and unlocked the door swinging it open, and letting the warm air inside. A tall man with blonde hair the colour of the sun's rays and calm brown eyes with a hint of mature wisdom stood giving a weak smile and a wearing a rather blank black shirt and evergreen coloured pants. He blinked at the short female. She blinked back. He was pretty cute but in a I'm-a-good-but-not-too-exiting-guy way. Not her type.

"Hello. I'm Ralph Falun. I'm here to pick up Kathy…" he trailed off, staring over Tracy's shoulder inside the house.

"Yeah she'll be here in a min-"

"I'm here!" Kathy shouted gleefully, running down the stairs, bringing a heart-warming smile with her. She wore a blue T-shirt with white dots and black jeans. Her hair was gelled, making it shine against the light of her front foyer and curled up. She wore a bit of eyeliner on her face and more blush then usual, which she really didn't need. She was next to Tracy in an instant and brimming up at Ralph. "You look good!"

"Oh…thank you…" Ralph blushed and looked down at himself. Tracy just shook her head and walked away, not interested in her sister's 'date'. "You look good too!"

Kathy giggled. "Thanks. Ready to go?"

"Yep. But shouldn't you tell your parents you're going now?"

"They're out of town," she shrugged, "Tracy'll take care of the house well while I'm gone. No need to worry."

Ralph smiled and nodded. Kathy stepped out onto the porch and locked the door behind her. The two made their way to Ralph's mother's car. It was grey and smooth and small, which Ralph liked, but it was also old and a little tottery. He wondered if it was ok to bring Kathy in such an old looking car. She didn't seem to mind though, even calling the vehicle cute, and jumping into the passenger seat as Ralph took his dirver's seat. He started up the car and they were gone, zooming down Liverpool's allies.

"I'm a bit scared," Kathy admitted, biting on her smooth bottom lip. Ralph tried not to notice that, and her intoxicating lavender perfume. "I've heard about Jack's parties and I…well I really don't know what to expect."

"Me too," Ralph nodded. "I'm nervous, too."

Kathy smiled at him. The rest of the way was quiet, mostly the blonde letting the girl beside him go on about her math project. However, try as he might, his mind drifted. His only thoughts were on how he was going to face the red head who just happened to have kissed him the day before yesterday without explanation…well he never really gave him a chance to say anything anyways. Ralph felt it was going to be really awkward to see Jack again, and willing himself not to think about how the kiss felt was impossible. He was shocked to find himself not disgusted but confused and even mad. He had every right to be. Jack Merridew had some answers for him. And Ralph was getting them one way or another.

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The Merridew mansion was one of the biggest homes in the city. It's high arches of polished softwood lumber and scratched up copper linings dated to the late 1800s but had clearly been renovated so many times that it looked modern and dignified. The front doors were at least 4 feet high and 5 feet wide, which seemed ridiculous to Ralph as he peered through his front window at the blue-painted mahogany doors, hidden in the shadows of the wide white porch, crusted with age. The estate was surrounded by acres of woods that stretched for miles, almost leading into the next town. Here, the houses were fields apart and Ralph could barley see Michelle Corn's home down the road.

There were lights everywhere, glowing from and around the house, and people were already crowding in it. Ralph suddenly felt a little more awkward then before. There were more guests then he had expected. At least every teenager from Liverpool, Wells and Ely were here, bustling around and meeting up with old friends. Kathy gasped at the way some girls from a private school were dressed, hooked onto the arms on pristine boys that you would see on the cover of university pamphlets.

It took Ralph at least 20 minutes to find a place to park his car. It was near a ditch so he revved up the vehicle again and fit, just barley, into a space between the bend of a hill and the field leading to the Corn Estate. The minute he cut the engine off, Kathy's hand shot out and gripped Ralph's arm. She looked at him with shimmering eyes and worry lines.

"Ralph…I-I don't think I should be here."

He looked down at her white hand and looked back up into her burnished eyes. They peered into his. Ralph cocked a shaky smile and put a hand on hers.

"It'll be ok. I promise. I won't leave you."

Kathy bit her lip and still looked doubtful. "It might be fun!" Ralph lied. "We haven't tried it yet."

After a few more words of helpful advice, Williams nodded and breathed out deeply. She looked defeated and tired and Ralph wondered perhaps that this _was_ a mistake. He patted her shoulder.

"I promise. We'll stick together."

Kathy nodded quickly and unlocked the door beside her. "Let's get it over with, then" she whispered.

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The two needed to circle the large home before they reached the backyard where the real party was. Music blared from at least 5 dozen radios around the campus and tables after tables were piled on with food, dip, cutleries and sodas. Ralph wrinkled his nose when he saw the mountain of canned booze on the left. He ushered Kathy away from that area. This party was going to get very wild, he could tell immediately. People were bustling all over, everyone young and still in secondary. There were even some stiff freshmen around, looking very lost and fussy. Ralph felt sorry for them.

He looked around and his eyes almost promptly landed on a red head who had one arm around a blonde girl with too much make up on and was chatting with Roger who looked relax which was uncommon for the uptight barbarian. He toasted with his cup of beer and Jack's, and gulped the whole content down in one shot. Ralph bit his fingernail. This really wasn't the time to talk to Merridew. And he didn't see this party as anything special so there was no need for the manners of greeting the host.

There were obvious party crashers whom the guests invited with open arms and a pool where half-naked boys were diving and forming strange stunts in. Kathy looked away from them and Ralph made a way to the snack table. Some treats looked decent and he grabbed two bags of _Lays_ (AUTHOR: I know…they actually existed then…) and gave one to Kathy who thanked him and gnawed on the very first chip feverishly. She was clearly bothered. Ralph said nothing and patted her back reassuringly. Even though the whole ordeal was dreary and uncomfortable, Ralph took the pleasure of knowing that he was technically on a date with Kathy, she seemed to like him well, and they could really be _together_, together.

For a moment, Ralph forgot the major variable in his life. But only for a moment.

"Raphie!" in came Jack Merridew, with a feral smile and his arm waving and receding as he came closer to the other boy and Kathy. The girl he had been with was nowhere to be seen and Roger had not followed him, surprisingly.

Ralph stared at the red head as if in a daze. Merridew didn't _seem_ like he was bothered with anything. This annoyed Ralph dearly.

"Jack," the blonde-haired boy said, a bit of malice in his voice. Kathy stood, oblivious as usual to the intense aura of the two enemies, gripping her bag of chips roughly.

"I…um…th-thanks for inviting us, Merridew" she said and looked away.

As if suddenly realizing she was there, Jack blinked. "Oh no problem, Ms. Williams. I'm glad you made it." He tried a smile laced with the undertone of displeasure. The red head gazed at Ralph's arm and the blonde retreated it, shifting away from Kathy, but keeping eye contact.

"You don't mind leaving us both alone for a minute, do you?" Jack asked, his usual 'sweet' smile replacing the tensed one and his eyes shined, looking at Kathy. She looked back this time and nodded slowly, looking at Ralph next. He looked back at her and smirked.

"Give me a minute, ok? I'll come back."

Williams gave her companion another pause before agreeing, sadly, and stepping away, walking off to a secluded part of the backyard. Once he was sure she was far from earshot and safe, Ralph considered Jack. The look Merridew gave him was that of a fox playing cruelly with a frightened mouse that would soon become dinner. It made Ralph shiver and he looked down at his bag of _Lay's_. He cursed himself under his breath at the way Jack made him feel, and glared at the chips.

"Enjoying the party?"

"I just got here."

"Hm…what do you think?"

Ralph gave a look around of the party. "I've never seen anything like it…" The tone he used was not one of a compliment.

"Of course" Jack chuckled and was suddenly in front of Ralph. His eyes were daring and a little bloodshot. He smelled somewhat like booze but he wasn't drunk. The blonde jerked backwards anyway at the hot breath down his neck. Jack wouldn't do anything with so many people around…watching them…but then…this was Jack Merridew.

The red head cackled quietly and leaned back into Ralph. "Come with me," he whispered surly in the other's ear. "You're probably very wondering, Ralphie."

Jack moved, shifting, and purposely brushed Ralph's arm softly. The blonde snapped his neck around and watched his hated person walk to one of the many trails leading into the heavy woods. He looked back and winked at Ralph before turning around again and strutting to his destination. Ralph narrowed his eyes into the darkness of the trees. There was no space for sight. Kathy was at the other edge of the field, being offered a drink by a shy freshman. She accepted the cup with a meaningful smile and Ralph concluded that she would be ok for now…

Taking a deep breath, and knowing that _this_ was suicide, Ralph followed Jack.

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**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	6. Chapter 6

**So the usual:**

**Thanks so much for reviewing! Honestly, they always make me smile!**

**Please enjoy this chapter!**

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Henry sipped his cup and eyed the people around him. He was being shoved and pushed around and soon learned how to keep out of the rushing teenagers' ways. The party was very unorganized, people coming and going to who knows where. Some drunkards escaped into the forest or tumbled down the ditch, laughing and pulling their friends down with them. Freshman to even collage students filled the large backyard like ants, and the passing cups of drinks kept everyone busy and wild. Henry sighed into his soda and searched for a familiar blonde. Of course there were lots of them, especially around this area of Liverpool but none had those same knowing brown eyes, that paling peach skin, the lean, thick figure and the mature air that was very out of place.

_Ralph, where are you?_ Henry whined in his head. He suddenly felt like a 6 year old again, strolling around semi-frantically, his feet deep in grainy sand, his hair ruffled by the tropical wind, and looking for his Chief with large almond eyes.

Henry scratched his head and fixed his bangs. He turned his head slowly and met with familiar coal black eyes. From across what seemed like a short distance Roger Paling was staring intently at Henry, a plastic cup filled with something red in one hand and his other inside the front pocket of his brown cargo pants. He flipped his black hair back and kept gawking at the younger boy, his eyes concaving into his schoolmate's skull.

Henry's breath hitched, gripping his cup roughly, which caused droplets of punch to spill out. He evidently shivered and broke eye contact quickly, looking for anything that could distract him from the glares of the other male.

Luckily, something did manage to distract him. But he certainly didn't see it coming.

"Ah, wait!" a mysterious boy exclaimed, before being shoved by a female brunette who was frowning sourly at him. This caused a sudden collision as Henry and the boy's bodies crashed against each other. Henry lost his cup, which had come crashing down, spraying his new sneakers in yellow. Both teenagers fell to the ground and the people around them were laughing, including the girl who had shoved the mystery man. She fixed her hair and walked away.

Henry moaned and tried to shift out of his awkward position, his face showing off a deep pink colour. How embarrassing. The boy on top of him was pretty heavy though he was obviously skinny and he rolled over Henry's body, landing on the hard soil below. A senior snickered and whispered "stupid freshmen."

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry!" the boy said scrambling up now that he had regained his composure and helped Henry, who was still a little dizzy from the fall, up.

The brunette grinned wearily and nodded, getting to his feet shakily. The other let go of him. He brushed dirt off his pants and frowned at his shoes.

"Oh damn."

"Were those new?" there was an obvious tone of guilt in the other freshman's voice. Henry chuckled and nodded.

"Yeah but it's no problem." He shrugged and looked up to face the other. "I'm just glad—"

Then he stopped, his mouth still open, ready to form words, but all Henry did was blink at the teenager. The teenager blinked back. He was only a little taller then Henry with hair the colour of cleaned tow and bright blue eyes, more animated then Jack's own pair. His jaw was set but there was a sort of lost innocence in the structure of his face. Like he had once been a very cute child and was now a grown adult. Though of course he wasn't. He was dressed in a uniform belonging to a school close to Liverpool as Henry recognized the bow and arrow symbol on the left breast pocket from a recent soccer match.

But that wasn't what stopped Henry from speaking. No. It was as if black clouds were rolling away revealing an old and loved picture that had been forgotten years ago.

"Oh my…" Henry hissed quietly. He was shaking now. The blonde boy in front of him blinked a couple of times before his big eyes got even bigger.

"Oh…God," he said, almost to himself. "Henry? Littleun Henry?"

Somewhere in the midst of the crowd, Roger was laughing.

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The darkness enveloped the forest like a thick blanket. The branches of trees hid the sacred light of the moon and stars, and the only sound that was heard was the cawing of evil crows, and the chirps of invisible bugs. A soft wind of summer evaded the thick trunks of the timber and buzzed across thorny bushes and strong grass. Ralph avoided the burly vines, their stringy forms reminding him too much of creepers. Thank goodness they didn't grow in this part of the UK at least. His foot crushed yet another helpless twig and a call was heard deeper inside the trail.

"You ok back there, Ralphie?" a condescending voice cackled. Ralph breathed out and squeezed his eyes to see if he could look through the darkness. Of course, the night protected evil. "You better hurry up."

And there was movement again. The shuffling of heavy, rough feet against dead leaves forgotten by winter. Ralph tried to follow the noise as best he could even without his vision. He could now sense the intense vulnerability of the situation he was in, but he wondered if Jack could even see too. Ralph hoped he wouldn't run into the red head and make a fool of himself. Actually, Ralph didn't want any kind of physical contact with Jack in general…for obvious reasons. The blonde perked his ears so he could follow the muddling sounds easier.

"Where are we going?' Ralph asked, running into a skinny branch. It hit his face and he cursed, bending the obstacle away.

"You'll see."

Ralph hated the tone the red head had in his voice.

But soon, thankfully, the black blanket slid away, revealing an empty space where occasional trees sulked, and light filtered the clearing gleefully, free and whinging. Trees and animals came into focus and Ralph couldn't help but sigh in relief and smile as he caught sight of a round creature skimping into a hole. It made a grounding noise then silence. The blonde wiped the sweat on his brow and shivered at the recognition of coldness. This place was not as warm as the rest of the area and the sweet breeze soon become simply uncomfortable. Ralph rubbed his arms and looked around, stopping to see Jack's solid frame outlined in white glow. If someone didn't know Jack Merridew, they would swear he was some sort of angel in that light. However, Ralph _did_ know Jack Merridew and all he saw was a demon in disguise.

He curled his hands into loose fists and glared at the red head. Jack didn't glance back, choosing to gaze out in front of him instead. Ralph looked past the teenager's body and saw what he was looking at. A broad, static river formed a burrowed line across from them, bending over small hills and through the sad trees. All around the river, light glittered off the small waves and leaves of heavy bushes. Ralph blinked and stared admiringly at the illumination. They were like the smallest bulbs of yellow, creating the loveliest illusion of a festival, ablaze and alive.

Ignoring his previous notion, Ralph slowly walked up until he was right beside Jack and let his eyes wander around the scene in front of him.

"Fireflies" Jack shrugged and smiled. "They're usually attracted to this place, but I'm not sure why." He looked around then turned his face to Ralph's. The blonde was still staring at the beautiful light the bugs gave off. Jack smiled in a not-so-innocent manner and ignored the annoying shrill of cowering crickets. He raised a hand and stroked Ralph's arm softly, easily seeing the other boy tense up immediately, his mind returning to reality and just where he was standing. Ralph stepped back and looked at Jack with anger laced with confusion in his brown eyes.

Jack gave a small groan and a sigh before grabbing Ralph's arm and shoving the teenager's body against his. Arms circled the blonde's arms and Jack's mouth gently kissed the junction between his prey's shoulder and neck. Ralph squirmed in the tight hold.

"Oh just stop that," Jack whispered, annoyed, and kissed Ralph's jaw line with care. The other boy ignored him and kept trying to pry himself away. He moved his head to the side farthest from Jack's mouth, successfully showing off more skin from his neck for Merridew to bit down on. Ralph cried out as he felt sharp teeth pierce his skin. Sweat broke out and he turned to pleading.

"J-Jack please…stop!" he decried, trying to release his arms at least. His right temple connected with Jack's left. The red head hummed but stopped his advances.

"What's wrong?" he asked, slyly, hazy blue eyes suddenly right in front of Ralph. The blonde knew how he must look and this agitated him more.

"This!" Ralph seethed between his clenched teeth. "This is wrong Jack! I don't know what gave you the idea that I'm…"

There was a short silence between the two teenagers. Ralph gulped and looked away, not wanting to make eye contact at all. The grip around his shoulders loosened only a little. Jack's blue eyes bore into Ralph's flushed cheek and he frowned, humour gone. He grabbed Ralph's chin roughly with a now-free hand and turned his head to look at him. Ralph had no power in himself to fight back. They were now meeting eye to eye, Jack at least an inch taller then the blonde. Their faces were so close that he could feel the harsh, hot breathe of a hunter.

"And who says?" Jack asked, the enmity in his voice very obvious as he glared fiercely at Ralph. The prey blinked feel a ting of pain on his neck where Jack bit him.

"E-Everyone. Everyone knows that this is wrong…"

A soft wind blew bangs of scarlet into Jack's eyes but he made no move to fix it.

"Who's everyone, Ralph? Your parents? The teachers? Father Michael? _Society_?" the red head spit the last word out ungraciously. Ralph pressed his lips together and said nothing. "Well you know what I think? I think they are all fucking wrong."

Ralph would have gasped at hearing such profanity come out of Jack but he didn't manage to make one sound as a hard mouth enveloped his quivering lips and a tongue darted inside. The blonde muffled a sound but said nothing more as he felt Jack's hands grip his wrists painfully. Ralph could only stand there and let himself be dominated yet again. Jack's arms encircled the blonde once again and he deepened the kiss, his tongue mapping Ralph's mouth with expertise. Their bodies pressed together and one of Jack's legs slid in between Ralph's thighs.

The blonde stopped and his eyes grew as wide as saucers. What the hell was he doing!?

In a desperate effort, the teenager brought his knee up and struck Jack right where the sun don't shine. In response, the red head let go of the blonde with a grunt and bent double, his hands clutching the front of his pants. Now, Ralph knew he was in the worst position imaginable. He could have run right then when Jack was weak (in fact he was surprised at how Jack let his guard down so easily especially after what happened last time). But the blonde knew that if he ran into that forest now, he would never be able to come back out. He could try to fight Jack but, well, it was obvious where that would lead. So he was very limited.

Ralph stepped back and let Jack lye on the ground, still in pain. The blonde blushed at his actions and turned, running to the other side of the river, and stopped to look back. When he regained his composure, Jack was on his feet in a minute but made no move to come after Ralph. They were not a great distance away but the blonde felt a little safer here.

"That was wrong, Merridew!"

"You liked it," Jack called back with a calm yet dangerous tone. He folded his arms.

"Jack…" Ralph looked beyond the red head at the acres of trees lining the area. There really was no way out. He let his hunter trap him so conveniently. He looked back at said hunter. "I-I…I thought you hated me…"

Jack laughed happily, his head tilted back and his body shaking from his chuckles. Ralph shuddered and bit his lower lip.

"What made you think otherwise?" Merridew said, followed by a small fit of 'giggles'.

"You…well…" actually, Ralph felt very stupid right now.

"Because I kissed you? That's why you think I might like you?" Jack shook his head and wiped his neck with the back of his hand. "Oh Ralphie. Who said you had to like a person to hit on them? I mean, a man goes to a regular slut to have a good time, hm? Not because he _likes_ her."

Ralph flushed a deeper red at this comparison but cursed the fact that Jack was right. He really didn't have to be confused anymore. Jack Merridew hated his guts. That was etched in stone forever. Ralph pulled loose strands of hair over his ear and gave the red head a set face.

"Don't touch me, Merridew."

Jack stuck out his tongue at nothing in particular. "You're not the Chief anymore."

Ralph growled under his breathe. This savage was impossible.

"Right. You're the Chief," he licked his lips, eyeing the red head strangely "so why me? You practically surround yourself with man whores," Jack narrowed his eyes at this title for his hunters, "and I'm sure Roger is ready and willing at your word." Ralph licked his lips again, his heart beating thunderously. He knew he was playing with fire, but his curiosity ate at his fears. "So if you hate me so much, there's no point in continuing any pursuit you have to get me into your bed cause I can assure you, _Jack_" he accursed in pure revulsion, "there is no way, in Hell or Heaven, I'll _ever_ let you take me."

A cricket whistled and went quite. Merridew stared blankly at his enemy.

Ralph asked again, calmly now. "Why?"

"Because, Ralphie." Jack sighed and shrugged, a smile growing on his sharp face. "Maybe I _do_ like you."

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Kathy Williams was very lost. She had looked around everywhere but there was not a single trace of her friend. Ralph had disappeared on her. She only hoped, though, that he was ok. Jack Merridew was very unnerving to her and the look he had shot towards her made Kathy quiver a little. Merridew really had the most unsettling blue eyes, nothing like her mother's lazy ones. Kathy pouted a little, as she kept looking around, shifting past crowds of seniors. The music from the radios was blasting loudly and she bumped into quite a few dancers who just stared at her leaving form.

_This is impossible_, she cried in her head. _Ralph! Where are you!?_

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**Hoped you enjoyed this chapter!**

**And, ok, I am re-reading LOTF and I totally missed this one line that made me giggle uncontrollably.**

"**They [Ralph and Jack] looked at each other, baffled, in love and hate." (William Golding, page 56)**

**Jack x Ralph…it's canon :D!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Am I the only one who is wishing death upon exams? **

**Sorry for the late update, guys!**

**And to NamelessHeroine, happy late birthday!!**

**Thanks again for the reviews~~~!!!**

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_Because, Ralphie. Maybe I _do_ like you._

Ralph Falun hated Jack Merridew. And even if the hate wasn't returned, the vile that boiled in his stomach at the last words his enemy had said was proof enough that his disgust for Merridew was evident and forever. This hate kept him planted to the ground even after Jack had approached him and pecked his lips with a small kiss before turning away and walking back into the dark forest, back into his sanctuary where he was powerful and Ralph was weak. After a few seconds of scorning and swallowing back angry tears, the blonde followed, knowing that being alone in a mysterious area, where anything could jump out at him, and he could be lost in for a long time, was just as dangerous as being alone with the red headed hunter.

So both rivals returned into the black blanket with different emotions then they had felt when they had come out. Jack was whistling a slow, happy tune, no doubt smiling with wide, sharp teeth, kicking away dirt patches and leaves, while Ralph, trailing behind him, looked anywhere but in front, keeping his eyes dilated to the darkness, searching for any kind of beam of light and failing. The sounds of the red head were annoying and Ralph had ever mind to snap at him but for some reason, he couldn't find his voice. He felt just as he had when he first returned home. His mother had been so frantic when she saw him and his dad had been solemn but crying. However, Ralph didn't say a word to this, not to their questions or their reactions. For months he had taken on a mute attitude and it was only after a good while did he speak again.

While the whole experience of the island was shattering, the main reason Ralph said nothing for a long time was that he feared his own voice. The way it sounded was the same as when he was commanding the boys at the beginning, the same as when he scowled at the irresponsible biguns, the same as when he cried for Simon and Piggy, the same as when he ran for his life from the hunters. But most of all, it was the same voice he used when he shouted, and admired Jack, the same voice he used when he reasoned and fought with Jack, the same voice he used when he sought for the beast with Jack, the same voice he used when he discovered what the real beast because of Jack.

His voice was his curse and he wanted to be rid of it, to use a different voice, a different tone. Hitting puberty helped but it still rang to a frightened age-hood of a forgotten memory.

"Ralph," Jack called in the darkness. The blonde could still hear him walking so he didn't stop and neither did Ralph. "Do you remember Room 201?"

Ralph's breath hitched but he said nothing. How could he forget Room 201? It was the very last time all the boys on the island had been together, so close together, in the same area, without trying to kill, torture, joke with or play with each other. He had still been in his mute stage but Ralph remembered the whole event clearly and even carved 'Room 201' on his desk close to the corner his island corner. After a bit of hesitation, he coloured in the chipped word in black and red.

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The first thing he noticed when he walked into the room on that first day was the smell. It was the scent of boiled coffee. His mom had never allowed it until he was 15 but Ralph recognized the smell of that liquid because when she wasn't looking, his dad would let him sip some. It was soothing, warm and always perfect. It's what relaxed Ralph's nerves. The area also particularly smelt like age-old balsa wood. At every corner of the large room, on top of wall-attached cupboards and desks, were block knick-knacks, chiselled into animals, plants, bugs and even human faces. There were steel statues of Greek Gods and Goddesses and mythological Lords of the Persian times joining the trinkets, all coloured in beautiful and almost haunting hues.

Next were the other contents of the room, which weren't very. Other then the shelves, there was a long, sleek bed stretched out on the opposite side of the room with cushions the colour of dead blue and spray-painted gold on the linings. Beside the front door of the room was an ancient desk, it's red borders cracked and turning orange, and it's front and legs clawed as if a cat had used it as it's scratched post. On top were stacks of unread letters and papers inked with words Ralph at the time didn't understand.

Apace with the desk, leaning against the accompanied chair, was a man no older then 60 at least, his hair grey, thinning and long from the back but non-existent at the front. His face, without moving it, was traced with lines of age, some deeper then others, on his tanned skin, and he had soulful grey eyes that seemed deeper then a hole. He also sported a thick beard that made him look even older but wiser.

The man smiled as Ralph entered, led and slightly pushed by his tall, strong father, and came to stand in front of him. The blonde was nervous around this stranger but he shook hands and kept a thin mouth as his father greeted him. Ralph was, anyway, more scared of something else then this new environment. He was scared of seeing everyone again after such a short period.

It had only been two weeks and a half after they had returned for tragedy to strike again because of the island. He had been sitting at home, eating chocolate pudding that his mom had made before the news reached the Falun family. In a small country house out in the west of the UK, Percival Wemys Madison hung himself with a rope over the banister in the barn across his street. His grandmother had found him there three hours later and fainted on the spot. After the funeral, which Ralph had been late to attend, Percy's mother had searched her son's room and found notes after notes of scrawled letters to himself, letters to a mystery person, and diary entries hinting to the lead-up of his suicide.

Somehow, Ralph had gotten a hold of these papers and wept at the words written on them.

_**The island…the beast…it's after me! I can't stop it!**_

_**Please…I can't stand this anymore…Someone…**_

_**I regret it all…what was I thinking—I am so lost…This is the end…I don't want to hunt! I want to go home! Home, please, home!**_

_**Percival Wemys Madison, The Vicarage, Harcourt St. Anthony, Hants, telephone…telephone…telephone**_

Word soon quickly got out and the press wanted in. Their greedy ways sought out for the closest boy from the island and frolicked around Percival's home, looking for answers. Ralph's phones were ringing non-stop and one day, his mother got sourly fed up and unhooked all the phone cords in the house. Ralph didn't go to school for awhile for fear of having to run into a newspaper worker or a TV crew at the worst. He didn't know how the others were handling it but he wondered, feverously, if Percy really _was_ the only one who took this route. Or if there were more. But luck had finally dug it's way through this mess of a problem. A call went out for all the boys 'rescued' from the island to come to Cornwall and meet with a therapist that would handle them to stop any future suicides or depression.

Ralph had begged his parents not to take him, not to face the horrible memories again. But he was scolded and forced to go, as they were both frantic and worried that their son would follow Percival. So on the ride there, Ralph took to half-hoping that only a few boys would show up and perhaps the whole session would be cancelled. How wrong he was. After greeting the old man, and waiting for another mere 20 minutes, the other boys filed in, one after the other. None of them, like Ralph, were smiling or saying anything. Some came with parents, both or one, others with guardians, and the rest alone. Ralph gazed at their faces, remembering names vaguely but recognizing the glint in their eyes completely. Surprisingly, some of the boys, even the biguns, had red, puffy faces, making it obvious that they had cried not too long ago.

Many ignored Ralph but others, who caught his eyes and held it, looked like they were about to tear up again and looked away. He knew, though, that even those who didn't glance at him recognized their former leader immediately. And they soon quickly recognized their second leader when he entered as well.

Jack Merridew entered the room with some heavy authority in his pace, walking in with a straight posture, a deep frown, deathly eyes and the same arrogant face, that Ralph had grown to hate and fear. The blonde could swear that all the boys, even the ones that still went to Jack's school, had gasped, quietly or loudly, when Jack strutted in with his black choir cloak flowing behind him and his equally black cap on his still-unruly but clean cut red hair. It was the same image that was sown into their minds; the image of a status boy with unrest-less features and angry voice. Ralph was the only one to narrow his eyes and curse Jack under his breath for wearing such an outfit at a time like this. When everyone was greeted and sitting (many of the boys had made a ridiculously huge space for Merridew), the old man came to the front and sat on his desk, eyeing each boy with knowing eyes. Then his whole face folded in as he broke out into a smile, showing small pearly white teeth.

"Hello boys," he began his voice deep and soft, "I'll be your therapist for perhaps the next few years. My name is William Golding."

And from that point on, Ralph found himself opening up and, unknown to his parents, it was Golding to whom Ralph broke his vow of silence too.

It was amazing, really. On the very first day, those who had been quite and solemn began to speak about their time on the island. And for the first time and last time, the true story of the boys on the island was revealed. After the long introduction, littluns explained how they had been confused and disoriented while being led by their two leaders, Ralph and Jack, and how they liked hunting but were scared in the end in the hunting of Ralph. The biguns spoke of their feelings, too, making the littleuns smile and blink. They spoke about how they either enjoyed or were nervous about hunting and fighting, about the campfire cooking and the war paint.

Nothing left the room, though. Even when terrifying details of Piggy and Simon's death were announced, and even when Jack's brutality and Ralph's failed persuasions were revealed, everyone shut up after the session is over and they leave to stay at different hotels in Cornwall. William had every right as an adult to tell the parents and even the police of the savage acts. But he didn't, which earned him a serious respect, if not a questioning look or two, from all the boys, even Merridew.

Of course, fights tended to break out between opposing biguns, littleuns or a mix. Everyone had their own unique feelings, experiences and opinions to the beast, their friends, their secret enemies, Jack, Ralph and the Lord of the Flies. Sometimes, a littleun would accuse of being harassed by a bigun, and the accused and the littleun would physically fight until someone, usually Golding, broke them up.

Watching them, Ralph felt the urge to join in, and to just lung himself at Jack, to choke the life out of the red head, to kill him in front of everyone, to avenge Simon and Piggy. And he had a feeling that, when the room became tense and awkward, everyone seemed to be waiting for either Jack or Ralph to make the first move to each other. But the most they made it to was glaring across the room and having a mental battle. In a strange perplexed state, both knew that it would be no use to kill the other, knowing it would not achieve anything, which meant that they were agreeing on something for the first time in a long time without the others knowing.

Golding was a very memorable old man by himself. He had shared with them that he had been many things in his lifetime. A poet, a writer, a schoolteacher. He seemed to understand the boys so well; it was as if he had been there with them on the island, there when the idea of the beast arose, when the fire went out, when they killed and when they rejoiced. And because they had shared the horrendous details of their sinned deeds with him, he did the same with them. William admitted that he had done bad things as well when he was just a little older then Jack. He hurt a close female friend* and took pleasure in setting up and watching people fight each other in the schoolyard**. As he told these anecdotes, Ralph and perhaps even the former savage Chief himself seemed to be the only ones to realize how close Golding's character had been to Jack's. This, however, didn't bother them.

The group and William shared different stories, good and bad, going back and forth every session. Finally, at some point, on one of the last days of the therapy, a knowledge had donned upon them and the room had fallen into a deep silence for a little while.

Bill broke this silence by saying, "Simon was right…" and cupping his face into his hands as the others watched him with quiet eyes.

Yes, Simon had been right. Everyone agreed to this. Golding patted Bill on the shoulder and smiled at them all, nodding.

"Yes, Bill. Little Simon was right. The beast…it's inside you. It can't be destroyed. It's apart of you, it's apart of every human being no matter how old you are, where you came from, what you did or how you were raised."

The boys, ages 6 to 13, understood this wisdom better, Golding would later admit, then most adults ever could.

After month since they came to Cornwall, all the boys were let out, William Golding concluding that they were ready for the outside world again. Fresh and feeling better then before, the boys began to take on their own independent actions. The first savages continued to follow Jack, realizing to themselves and to everyone else that they enjoyed the power and hunting on the island and were now not afraid to show the world their true, vile selves. Others like Henry broke out of this and tried to fix their past mistakes by volunteering, helping parents, making new friends and/or working for their futures after school.

The boys bid a dear farewell to the beloved therapist. Golding knew of the dangerous path the savages would take and the safe path the others would take but he quieted and didn't stop them. After all, he said, his business with them was done. What they did now with their refreshed minds and newfound understanding of how mankind and society worked was entirely up to them. He revealed practically nothing to the parents and left the boys to take their maturing experience on the island and see towards whatever came next.

That was the last time Ralph and Jack had seen each other, and that was the last time they had spoken. Right outside of Golding's office, just as he was about to make his way out of the building on the last day, Jack had grabbed the blonde by the shoulder and spun him around till they were face to face, so close Ralph could see the flickers of mysterious green in his rival's usually solid blue eyes.

"This isn't over," he had growled with a feral smile, letting his black cloak, which he had worn at every meeting, slid down his shoulder, revealing a navy T-shirt. "You're still _my_ prey, Ralph. _Mine_. You'll _always_ belong to me."

William Golding died in his bed from heart failure two weeks after the group returned home. Ralph remembered feeling apprehensively heart broken but calmer and freer. He carved a tombstone near the front of his desk with his therapist's name inside, inked with black and shrouded with makeshift flowers. Ralph was not scared at all at anyone finding out about William's last session. He had never written anything down, never took notes and sometimes even forgot names. So it is as if the last meeting of the boys on the island had never existed in records and that was for the best.

* * *

"No matter what…" Jack's rough voice broke into Ralph's train of thought and he suddenly realized they were outside of the forest now. The lights from the party blared against their still forms and the sounds of partiers laughing and shouting blasted their senses. Ralph blinked and saw that Jack was staring at him intently. "You're mine, Ralph. You always will be."

Ralph could have chuckled had he not been so rigid. The former hunter really sounded like he was obsessed or something. Like the blonde was an abused girlfriend the red head just wasn't ready to let go. And in a way…this technically was their situation…except for the girlfriend part…

"Let it go Merridew."

"Never."

* * *

Henry sipped the ginger ale in his newfound cup and grinned from ear to ear as he sat, with his legs crossed in front of him, on the driest patch of grass he could find. The area was near the side of the mansion, away from the party. Sam Mar smiled back, putting strands of light blonde hair to the back of his right ear.

"My God…Sam, I can't believe it's you!" Henry began. The two hadn't said a word after Sam had realized who Henry was. As quick as lightening, they had made their way to a secluded area to talk, away from the noise.

"Me neither! Oh wow, Henry, it's been awhile, huh?" Sam giggled.

The brunette nodded. "Not since Room 201…" they both paused and flittered the memory from their minds, determined not to sour this great meeting. "You're looking good…"

"Thanks. You too."

They sat in dead air then, looking up at the brightening stars and smelling the grounded summer wind around them.

"And Eric?"

"He's cooping well. Actually, he was here with me for a little while but I'm thinking he ditched. I've been looking for that idiot everywhere!" Sam shook his head. "I look away for only 2 seconds to get snacks and when I look back he's just up and gone on me!"

Henry grinned and remembered a time on a tropical piece of land when he could actually differentiate one twin from the other. Eric had always been the hyperactive one while Sam would be more cautions. However, you had to have been a good friend to have realized this difference, which is what Henry was and still wanted to be.

"Have you met the others yet?" the brunette asked, sipping what remained of his drink. Sam sighed and leaned on his elbows, tilting his head back a bit.

"Maurice and Harold. They met up with me when I arrived. They didn't smile as I had thought they would. They haven't changed have they?"

"I wish…but no, they haven't. Jack still leads them."

At the sound of the red head's name, Sam creped back up to sit on his behind and bend his head down, toying with the grass slowly with empty eyes. "So…he's still like that, hm?"

The other boy nodded but suddenly lightened up, grinning again "But Ralph's here too!"

Sam looked up and blinked with now brighter eyes. "R-Really!? Ralph's here!?" Henry nodded excitingly. "Th-That's great! I…I wanted to see him" the lighter blonde flushed a little.

"And with him here, we don't have to worry" Henry winked. He was happy to see Sam smiling. He knew how close the twins had felt towards Ralph, even if the blonde bigun hadn't realized it. "Our Chief is the best after all!"

Sam agreed wholeheartedly.

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"Good to see you made it, Ms. Williams," Roger's cool voice broke through the strains of muffled conversations. Kathy spun around, surprised and blinking as Roger approached her with a hint of a smile on his cold face. She looked at him warily but shuddered back. He seemed harmless. And he was alone.

"Ah…yes. You too." She only said that out of politeness. Whatever the case may be, Roger Paling scared her more then Jack did. There was a sort of calm unpredictable darkness about him that was insufferable to take. Where with Jack she knew where she stood, Roger kept all emotions out of his eyes so that nothing could pierce him.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, now standing next to her, glancing down as she was much shorter then him.

"I-I'm actually looking for, erm, Ralph…uh he went of with Jack for a bit but," she pressed her lips together, "I-I don't know where they are now…they've been gone for awhile."

Kathy had looked away when she was talking which made her miss the glitter of something deadly in Roger's eyes.

Last time he saw Jack, the red head had told him he was going to rinse of in the washroom in his home. Roger had agreed and gone of to get some more booze. He could hold his liquor just fine and knew it wouldn't take long for Jack to finish at the sink. In the mean time, Roger had, had the luck of seeing Eric Mar who was tumbling around a group of older woman, laughing with flushed cheeks, obviously drunk. The girls crowded around him, giggling and loving his cute antics. He hadn't seen Roger who stared with predatorily eyes at the now older boy, conjuring up an image of a scared, shaking littleun with the prettiest golden brown skin, destroyed with the many strikes of red from Roger's lashes.

And he saw the older version of this littleun again but in the form of Sam Mar who, unlike his rash twin, was awkward and being pushed around by snivelling, snobby schoolgirls from prep schools, not adored by them. At the same time, he spotted Henry, standing straight and uncomfortable. When their gazes connected, it took a lot of will power for Roger not to smile in complete pleasure at the frightened look in Henry's eyes. His will only broke when Sam and the brunette collided, falling on top of each other, causing a mess and fools of themselves. Roger couldn't help but laugh at the way they recognized each other.

He basked in the sweet knowledge of knowing that his three favourite preys were in the same area, under his watchful stares for a while until Henry and Sam walked out of the party, and Eric was once again swallowed into the elite group of older collage students. Now Roger went off to seek another plaything and who better then that bastard Ralph's crush. If you were to ask Roger, she was too plain and too beefy for him to normally go after, his preference leaning towards the dolled up, stupid girls who didn't give a crap about what he did and what he liked. But Kathy was alone and scared, and that was Roger's favourite set up for any victim.

"I'll help you find him" he commented, slyly sliding an arm around Kathy's shoulders. He was a bit annoyed at Merridew lying to him and sneaking off with his boy toy Ralph, but he didn't let this crush his time to have fun. He grinned as Kathy shivered in his hold, clearly disliking the move.

"Th-Thanks…but I'll be ok…"she said, trying to shake of his arm ambiguously. He shook his head and frowned now. She wasn't stupid, obviously, like Jack had said, and this pissed Roger right off.

"Oh come on," he tried for another grin and tightened his hold on her, making Williams stop in her effort to remove herself. "I won't bite. Promise."

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***This is a true fact I just found out about. Golding almost raped a girl when he was 16 years old. He regretted it afterwards but he didn't want to start a relationship with her when she wanted to.**

****I heard this from somewhere but I'm not sure where…**

**This turned out longer then I thought it would…**

**Damn you Roger!**

**You and your manipulative ways…**

**I'm hoping to lead up to Roger being gay as well, but I don't know who he should pick from his 'three preys'**

**What do you guys think?**

**Hope you liked this chapter!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Oh jeez I just realized a serious mistake I made when I read back through the earlier chapters O.o**

**Ralph's last name is different in the first chapter as it is in the later chapters _**

**Erm…if anyone was ever confused about that…er, Ralph's last name is officially Falun! Not Ackland!**

**Please enjoy this chapter!**

**Thanks for the reviews~!**

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Roger Paling could in fact, unsurprisingly, bite. But not in a way some may think. He didn't really, literally, bite you and he didn't snap and lose his temper easily. No, Roger's biting was much different, much more unique and much more sinister. When Roger bit you, it was like an owl trapping a mouse in their clutches. Swift and silent in the attack, and hard and fast without anyway of escaping once he caught you. Kathy really felt like she was in that kind of vulnerable position, even though Roger had only slung one loose, lazy arm around her and given a respectable space between their bodies. The schoolgirl couldn't help but shiver and wish to get away from him as quickly as possible, as far as possible. But that would look too strange…and he hadn't done anything yet so an escape may be given to her soon.

_Please come out soon, Ralph! Please!_ She begged this phrase over and over again in her head.

"Maybe he's around the other boys!" Roger suggested semi-excitedly, brushing past crowd of crashers, lightly pulling Kathy along with him. "They're old friends of Ralph's. Jack may have decided to reintroduce him."

Kathy doubted this severely. She was absolutely not the only one who knew about the bullying Ralph was inflicted with by the choir boys for the longest of time. They had eased up, she'd admit, but they hadn't let him go at all and she feared they never would. Roger was lying between his teeth. Kathy was getting more and more anxious because of this fact. And she really didn't want to face Jack's gang. They were also as shaky as Roger, as if they kept a dark secret locked away in their cold eyes.

Roger's bite turned a little steely as he noticed Kathy's hesitation. He grinned in a feral manner and pulled the whimpering girl to his chest. They had stopped just short of the large Merridew pool where partygoers of all kinds splashed, dove and floated. Couples were at it at the corners and some of the shirtless choirboys sat laughing as they watched a cocky collage man getting shoved viciously into the water. Kathy gasped and pressed against Roger.

"E-Eh?!" she questioned, panicking and pushing away. Roger held on tighter.

"What's wrong, Williams? You seem nervous…" he snickered and wrapped both arms around her. She squirmed and grunted in disapproval.

"Please let me go…" she said, her voice barley over a whisper. People around them didn't think twice, not even noticed their embrace or Kathy's discomfort. She tried even harder to get away but Roger pulled her, if possible, further onto him. He leaned and kissed her right ear, and she stopped, shocked and disturbed. This was horrible. But really, she should have seen it coming.

"You're quite lovely, Kathy," Roger lied, his nose now quite deep in her wavy black hair. "I wonder what your relationship with Ralph is…"

"It's none of your business."

The sadistic male stopped his pestering on Kathy and raised his head, mouth etched into a tight frown and his dark eyes hard. Ralph returned the hardened look with one of his own, as his fists were balled at his side and he stepped forward, menacingly, warningly. Kathy perked and twisted as far as she could in Roger's hug, her eyes meeting Ralph's. She couldn't help but sigh lightly in relief and smile.

"R-Ralph!" she cried, happily, now trying to shake Roger off even more. Surprisingly, he let her go and she didn't hesitate, running over to the blonde as quickly as possible. Ralph had one arm out and caught Kathy, holding her. She held on back and leaned her head on his shoulder, not meeting Roger's look at all. Said former hunter had his hands in his pockets now and a lazy grin stretched across his pale face.

"Hey Ralphie"

"Fuck off."

Kathy tensed at the strange tone in her friend's voice. Wiping some sweat from her forehead, she looked up and shivered outwardly at the deadly glare of malice in Ralph's normally soft brown eyes. His jaw was hard and, now that she realized it, his grip on her was just as tight as Roger's had been. His body was rigid all over and poised. She suddenly seemed frightened all over again but this time for a reason she had never expected. Ralph's eyes were just not right. Even Roger raised an eyebrow, his grin deflating a bit and stared past Ralph's shoulder. Switching her vision, Kathy turned over and nearly chirped in surprise at the sight of Jack Merridew's looming body, only a foot away from Ralph and Kathy, frowning darkly and staring right at her.

"Ah Jack," Roger's cool voice broke through the cold and solid silence that enveloped the four. The red head approached, and, with one last deathly look at Kathy, he brushed past Ralph's shoulder, coming to stand beside Roger. Together, they looked like a couple of demons, red and black hair swirled into one image in Williams' mind.

"It was nice chatting with you, Ralphie," Jack's tanned face broke out as he smiled cruelly, obviously avoiding to look at the woman in his rival's arms. "Stick around awhile. The party's just started."

With that, the savage turned and stalked off into the crowd, Roger following after one more glance. Ralph and Kathy were left alone, standing, watching them disappear. To her surprise, the raven-haired woman felt Ralph's let out a deep breath and his body went limp a little. She held onto him as if the blonde could pass out any minute. But he didn't. Instead, he smiled down at her, his eyes returning to the way they should be. She grinned back up and hugged him kindly. Ralph blushed and let the arm around her grow softer in it's hold.

"Did everything go alright?" she asked after a little bit.

"…yeah. Sorry to make you wait so long." His voice was nearly a whisper.

Kathy stepped away from him, her cheeks red and her eyes wide. "That's fine! I'm just glad you came in the knick of time!"

Ralph nodded. "Did he do anything to you?"

"No…not yet," she gripped her friend's arm and gave him an almost helpless look, titling her head ever so slightly. Ralph could look at her with glazed eyes as his mind drifted.

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"Jack…" Roger said, annoyed that he had to repeat the red head's name for the third time now. But still the former leader didn't turn around, didn't even stop in his pace. The sadist glared at Merridew's back, which was a bit wet for some strange reason. He wasn't sure where the other was headed. It seemed like they were going in a circle of some sort. He raced up ahead, and grabbed the other teenager's shoulder. "Look at me."

He did. Jack's blue eyes bore into Roger's dark ones. "What?"

"What? What do you mean what? What happened? Why didn't you tell me you were going to play with your toy?" he let go of Jack's shoulder and just stared at him with a confused manner. In the years that had passed, Roger had grown just a bit taller then his leader, and had broader shoulders and tougher skin. He could still remember the alarmed eyes of Amelia Merridew when Jack brought Roger home for the first time. She tried to hide her discomfiture of him but it was evident and frustrating. Not like the red head cared for her opinion on his friends anyway.

"Nothing happened," Jack chuckled, "and I don't have to tell you what I do at every second, Paling. Falun and I were just talking."

The black-haired teenager knew more had happened but didn't pester further. Even though Roger seemed stronger, Jack had the uncanny power to lead with organization and agility. He was quick with his hunts and kills, had a voice that could lock even the most cocky of teenagers, had the eyes of a murderer and was proud of it, and stood with the superiority of a man who could send a whole army into a war and win it with hardly any casualties. Roger would rather die a million times before admitting it but even he was slightly uneasy about Jack. And that usually was a word people used to describe _him_.

"What about you?" Jack suddenly asked, eyes searching. "You seemed to like having Kathy in your arms like that."

Roger merely chuckled, his face beclouding. "Too cowardly for me. And resisting. It's quite agitating, you know? I would've liked to rip her mouth off rather then kiss it."

Jack looked around and grinned tiredly. "Me too."

The hangman gave his leader a knowing look. If he even mentioned what he was thinking, the red head would quickly dismiss it. So he shut up about his thoughts. "Anyways, I have more interesting trinkets to mess with."

"Don't break them too soon."

"I won't, Merridew."

The hunters smiled at each other, before joining the other boys in the pool.

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"Ah! Ralph!" Henry cried out, happily. The blonde turned from Kathy and grinned at the brunette running towards him. The other smiled back and rushed over, making his way now easily past the loosening people. Kathy waved. Both hadn't noticed the stalking figure chasing after Henry until he came to stand behind him when they finally reached the twosome. Williams was the first to blink and shift to look behind the brunette.

Henry chuckled. "Don't be shy! Ralph," he suddenly said and the blonde perked, "you remember, hm?" The former littleun stepped back, revealing another former littleun but one Ralph almost immediately recognized. His eyes widened and the bag of chips in his hand almost fell to the ground.

"Uh…hey, Ralph. Long time no see," Sam greeted, an awkward smile swirled on his face and his left hand scratching the back of his now much blonder head. He looked much older, obviously, then before, but Falun was struck stiff by the difference. The only way he recognized the twin was because of the pupils that grazed him. He could never in a million years forget those baby blue eyes, just an inch of hue different then his brother, staring up at Ralph in admiration, mischief, grief and guilt. Now they looked at him with a fear of rejection. A rejection that was not handed to him. Instead Ralph seized the boy and pulled him in.

"My God! Sam! It's you!"

Happy and shocked, Sam laughed in full relief and hugged back. "Ralph!"

Kathy was once again out of the loop as Henry came to join the two, patting Sam's head and Ralph's shoulder, laughing. She smiled warmly at this sight but couldn't help feel a pang in her chest for being left out. Clearly, Ralph was more popular then she had thought and it was only then that she realized how little she knew about the boy she called her 'friend'. If memory served her right, he, as well as the choirboys whom she had no sympathy for, and Henry, was one of the boys that had been stuck, for a year no less, on a deserted island near the end of the Cold War. His young and hopeless appearance was all over the news and her mother has gushed about how tragic the experience must have been. Seeing Ralph's face now, she couldn't help but think that the boy on the island and the teenager standing in front of her were not so different.

"Kathy," Ralph noted, snapping her out of her revenue, "this is Sam Mar. Sam, this is my friend, Kathy Williams."

Blushing, the younger blonde stuck out his hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

Kathy took the hand in an excited grip. "Hi Sam! It's a pleasure to meet you too!"

Surprised, Sam blushed even more and retracted his hand. Henry stepped up and gave the female a small hug as a greeting. The four soon rejoiced and the stillness of a new meet devoured as Kathy brought Sam and Henry their own bags of Lays. They took a seat in a semi-vacant space, and started chatting about their lives. Sam came from another Catholic high school with his twin Eric (who was still mysteriously gone) where he was captain of the chess and baseball team. His relationship with his brother was deafening now, and he did things more independently. This earned a laughed and curious look from Ralph as he recalled a memory when the twins were inseparable, as if one entity, and they were simply 'Samneric'.

"At least you're both doing well," he had continued on to say, and ruffled the boy's hair.

Sam nodded and leaned a little closer to Ralph who did not mind in the least. It wasn't clear to Kathy, but Henry could see this gesture from the former littleun as a sign of a want to be forgiven. And though it was obvious that he had been during their time in Room 201, Sam was just a cautions and careful person by nature, now clearly unlike Eric.

"I gotta find that idiot," said twin grumbled. "The hunters are here too so I'm worried…"

Kathy blinked, still smiling. "Hunters? Who are they?"

Realizing what he said, Sam sputtered.

"Oh um, nothing! Nothing! It's just a name I gave to my group of friends, you know!"

Confused over his reaction, Kathy agreed to it. Henry sipped his half-full cup of cola silently, glancing at Ralph who met his eyes and shrugged. He threw an arm around Sam's shoulder and chuckled.

"No worries, Sammy. We're here together." With a reassuring squeeze from his former and forever Chief, Sam nodded and grinned, wiping under his nose with his finger.

* * *

Eric Mar was having the time of his life. He was chugging down drink after drink of booze and grinned slyly at his opponent, another freshman, who couldn't seem to be able to take the pressure. All around him, lovely older woman were cheering and hugging him tightly, leaving their sweet perfume all over his cashmere sweater. He had a dopy look on his face and basked in this life.

Being cooped up in a stuffy high school, dressed in scratchy and uncomfortable clothes almost every day can have a lasting effect on anyone. And to the perky male, a break from the hardships of school work and being looked down upon by harsher seniors was seductive. Even if, and he tried to ignore this fact, a demon had been the one to invite him and his brother.

It had happened only a few days before the party started; a little short notice. He didn't know how Roger had managed to find his number or his last name in the phonebook, now that he mentioned it, but Eric could still remember the look of pure terror cross and latch onto Sam's face as he gripped the thick white phone in his hand tightly. His normally shimmering blue eyes grew solid and dark and Eric had the emptiest feeling in his stomach when he stared back at them. Taking the phone from his brother's iron grip was difficult but he managed and when he went to speak, he knew his voice must sound louder and tougher then his now solemn twin. The island had really changed them and turned their nature into opposite directions.

On the other end, he heard a dark chuckle and a voice that sent hair on the back of his neck standing upwards sharply. "Hey Eric."

Roger continued on to say that Jack Merridew (this name also struck a horror cord in Eric) was having a party at his mansion soon, and that Sam and he were invited. At first, Eric had flat out and harshly refused, letting in a few curse words to emphasize his distaste for the idea. But Roger was a pestering bigun and continued to torment Eric with his quiet threats and sinful voice. By this time, Eric had hung up on the savage and hugged his shaking brother. He thought that, that would be the end of it. But it most certainly was not.

As if finding out that the devil of a boy Roger knew his number was terrible enough for the Mar twins. But the next day they soon learned that Roger knew much more then just their number. His still, standing form right outside their house was haunting and evil, the smile plastered on his face corrupt. Eric had taken the initiative and took a stand in front of Sam to show his protective side. Roger paid no mind to this, merely walking up the rickety porch and placing a cold hand on Eric's clothed shoulder.

"Come to the party, little pig," he had said, eyes vicious, "or I'll keep coming back."

That had been enough for Sam. Eric had no choice but to come to the party, frightened at what the re-arrival and sigh of Roger would do to his soft brother's mind. He could never forget how the brute had tortured them crudely and never felt pity or remorse for it. That by itself was obvious. But perhaps, as Eric looked around at the make-up covered, kissy school girls, it hadn't been that bad of a situation to be in.

And he hadn't even run into--!

"Eric," an arm circled the blonde's neck and his smile faded instantly. He cocked his head up and met with the face of his nightmare.

Roger grinned clumsily.

"R-Roger…"

The girls around them seemed to shift from both boys. They squealed when they managed to wrap themselves around Roger's arm or torso, and the rest continued to flirt with Eric. But both boys paid the ladies no mind at all. Their eyes were locked, and their minds running into different thoughts. In Eric's mind, he was freaking out at not just the close proximity between his and Roger's faces but because images of a much younger version of the savage raced by like a photo album someone was flipping at a high speed. In Roger's mind, it was a little simpler. Eric was his plaything for now and he enjoyed the blonde's reaction dearly.

"Long time no see."

Eric gulped, his eyebrows narrowing. "Yeah…but I'd rather not see you for an even longer time."

Roger just chuckled, and slid his arm off the shorter male's neck, touching his chin lightly, sending a quiver down Eric's spine.

"Well I personally would love to see _you_ more."

* * *

"Give me a break," Ralph growled, fixing his shirt, which had crumpled up while he was sitting, and crushed the plastic cup in his hand, throwing it into the nearest short trashcan. Henry followed this and put his now free hand onto his hips, shifting them a bit, and frowned at the sight before him. Sam looked nervous.

A few seconds ago, Jack had started a riot. Screaming "everyone into the pool!" had caused nearly every party member to scream out loud happily and start stripping. Some just jumped into the pool with all their clothes on, even the girls who's skirts were lost as they plunged into the large, deep hole. All the choirboys had taken their sweet time to slid their shirts off and received many catcalls from girls _and_ boys. Sam was biting his fingers now and blushed at the sight. Clearly, the feeling of strength and power had over-run the hunters' systems and they took to keeping that. From their lean bodies, it was clear that they had visited the gym more than once, and weren't shy in the least to show it off, jumping in after friends and girlfriends. Roger's skin was even paler on his chest and stomach and a collage woman's arms were already wrapped around him from the back. Jack was sitting at the edge, a tanned hand lying on a flushed female freshman's shoulder.

When he looked up and winked craftily at Ralph, the blonde responded with a disgusted look and turned to face Henry. This caused Jack's face to fall into anger but he tried to brush it off, giving the freshman a lesser toned smile. However, the red head had missed the certain pink tint on his rival's cheeks that he struggled the push down.

Kathy stood genially to the side and avoided looking at the pool at all cost. Instead, she smiled sweetly at Sam and poked his arm softly. He looked at her from behind his blonde bangs and she couldn't help but let the words '_so cute!_' run past her mind.

"Wanna get some more chips?" she asked.

With a light-hearted smile, Sam nodded. The two spoke of their departure to their friends and left.

"Hey Ralph," Henry began and looked down at his feet. Ralph blinked at the brunette. "We're never going to be rid of it are we?" The blonde's breath hitched. "I mean, the island. We can never let it go. _They_ will never let it go. And they won't let us let it go either."

Ralph could only give the former littleun a rightful look. He couldn't be the older, all-knowing bigun anymore. He couldn't lie about the beast or anything. He had to tell the truth.

"Yeah…"

"That's fine," Henry shrugged. "I mean, at least we realize it."

The two stood in complete silence as the sounds of laughter and immaturity raced through their senses.

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**Eh…**

**Tell me what you think!**

**And sorry for the late update!**

**Thanks again for the reviews!**


	9. Chapter 9

**I'm lacking in updates!**

**I know…Sorry!! **

**Hopefully you'll all like this chapter :D!**

**I swear you reviewers are the ones making me write more Roger than I thought I would XD**

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Eric grinned dryly and pecked the dirty blonde-haired girl beside him on the cheek. She blushed and leaned onto his shoulder more, her bangs tickling his chin. The short, red head on his left pouted and sprayed Eric with a sprinkle of pool water. He laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his bottom lip. In all honesty, despite his better judgment, he wanted to thank Roger soon for this. But just for this. He couldn't believe the luck he was having with the female genre of the party. The women in his grade were all stuck up or untouchable, which would frustrate any teenage boy. He took a deep pleasure in the popularity of his baby face.

"I can't believe it," a male's voice broke into the sweet sounds of a girl's giggling. Looking up, Eric's blue eyes fell on a dark head, half plunged into the water, and swimming right at him. When the boy resurfaced, he shook water droplets from his black hair and grinned broadly, coming to float right in front of Eric, who's legs were the only body parts in the water. "If it isn't Littleun Eric!"

The blonde blinked, confused and shocked. This boy must be one of the hunters.

"Don't you remember me?" the mystery male continued, pointing to himself, his brown eyes shimmering. "It's me Maurice!"

"O-Oh…" to be honest, Eric hadn't known Maurice very well from the island. He could only vaguely remember having sand thrown into his eyes by him and Robert on a very hot, sunny day, but that was about it. "Hey. What's up?"

"Not much," Maurice laughed and came right up to the edge of the pool, the brunette eyeing him gainfully. "Can't believe you're still alive, dude!"

At this, Maurice laughed heartedly, followed by the two girls near them. But Eric didn't follow. His face clouded and his eyes stilled, face straining physically. He, personally, didn't see find anything funny. But no one noticed his darkened mood and he quickly shook it off, grinning weakly.

"Well believe it."

Maurice raised a dripping eyebrow. "Is Sam here, too?" when Eric nodded, the former hunter's head swivelled around, "where is he?'

The blonde shrugged. He'd lost his brother in the throng of collage members, and had been sucked in by the violet eyes of a particularly lovely student who had slyly steered him to her group of friends, all waiting and smiling. The thought of his softer twin brought Eric back to reality and he slid away from the edge, picking himself up to his feet. The red headed woman pouted and stroked his wrist from where she sat.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I gotta go for a bit" Eric answered, barley meeting the girl's eyes as it was taking a lot of willpower for him to rip away from her red cheeks and revealing bosom. But he had to. The freshman shook his head a bit and turned, about to stalk off to look for his twin when Maurice, who's voice seemed a lot closer now, spoke up.

"Oh by the way, Roger wants you after the party's over."

The tougher Mar stopped in his movements and blinked at his former tormentor. Maurice stared back, with a devilish grin stretching on his face and a hint of something else in his eyes. He was right at the edge now and if he so much as stretched his arm out, he could grab the blonde's ankles.

"Oh…ok." Eric shuffled away, nodding slightly, and left in a fast pace. He knew that he had to find Sam _soon_.

* * *

"Why don't you jump in?" Bill asked, coming up behind Henry, who jumped at the sound of his voice, splashing cool soda out of the cup and onto the grass below, before whirling around and stepping back, craning his head to look up at the taller male. Bill had really grown, even though he'd been somewhat of a littleun himself, and wore a permanent tan from the island, which coupled well with his matching auburn coloured eyes and darkish hair. Henry remembered a time when he'd personally offered Bill the chance to leave the choir with him, to condom for what he'd done to Piggy, Ralph and Simon. Bill had shot down the offer almost immediately, with a toothy grin and a power-hungry stance that had become an accessory to all the hunters. He'd been sucked in too far and refused to break out.

Henry blinked and frowned deeply up at his ex-friend.

"Leave him alone," Ralph commented, noticing the defensive attitude of Henry's posture and realizing that the other teenager must be one of the hunters, though he was having a hard time pinning a name. They'd all come to look the same to Ralph. He quickly stepped into the small space between the two, and came to near eye level with Bill.

The boy shot the older male a dark smile. "You should come in to, Ralph! Jack would really like that."

"You think I care?" Ralph came closer to Bill, causing the late hunter to back up. "Leave Henry alone. He doesn't need to be bothered by you."

Bill's hands shot out and he waved them in mock redoubt. "I'm just a messenger!" he piped, chuckling a bit. "Honestly though, why deny your position in this school, anyway."

Ralph blinked but he held himself. "Positions?"

"You're the prey," Bill continued, winking, "and we're the hunters. It's always been that way and it won't change. You're _their_ toys," he went back and forth between looking at Henry and Ralph. "Roger and Jack's I mean. Don't think you're anything else but a couple of pigs who've escaped us for the last time."

"Seriously, go away, Bill," Henry hissed, now coming to stand beside Ralph.

"You think we're scared of you?" Ralph cocked an eyebrow, now recognizing the silly boy who'd rigged the logs for the younger boys to play with. "You think you hunters are anything but a bunch of cowardly scumbags to us?"

"Say what you'd like," Bill commented, not looking fazed at all. "But what the Chief wants, he'll get."

"Oh really?" Sam said, sliding a hand into his pocket. The three boys turned around and there the Mar boy stood, leaning to the right a bit, a new bag of Lays in one hand and Kathy Williams standing on the other side of him. She had her eyes narrowed at Bill. "Then, chief," Sam continued, looking past the hunter and right at Ralph, "what do you want?"

Ralph grinned, a bit shy at the way the littleun addressed him with the old title. He looked back at Bill. "I want you to leave us alone."

"Never gonna happen!" Robert cheered, running down one side of the field. Before Ralph could move, the second hunter tackled the blonde, throwing him to the ground and grabbing his ankles. The empty cup in Ralph's hand flew out, and hit the ground, Henry staring wide-eyed at the whole action.

"Come on Ralphie!" Bill exclaimed, happily, grabbing the boy's wrists and helping his friend drag the squirming male towards the pool.

"Stop!" Kathy shouted, coming to Ralph's aid along with Sam and Henry who grasped for the hunters, trying to pry their fingers off. Soon two more of Jack's men were on them, pulling the opposers off and taking their own section of the shouting blonde. It was a hard struggle and other partygoers, noticing the confusion, broke out into happy cheers and helped the savages drag Ralph all the way to the edge of the pool. Teenagers and young adults were laughing and shouting, pointing at what was going on, as Ralph's mind went into a sort of numb state.

He couldn't hear anything or feel anything and he blocked out the world for just a second. In this second, usually Piggy's voice penetrated his soul and spoke to him in a calm, mother-like manner. At first, when this had happened a few weeks after returning from the islands, Falun had thought he'd gone completely mad. But he'd never spoken about this to his parents, only to Golding, and after consulting with the therapist, he accepted his mirages of his wise friend and usually took the advice to heart. Now he could see Piggy's fat body behind his eyelids, smiling and breathing hard. The dead boy, forever 11 years old, took off his glasses and wiped them on his wet T-shirt, blinking with a blurry sight.

"Are you letting them just take you like that, Ralph?"

"What do you want me to do?" the teenager, now in the body of a 12 year old, asked, kicking some dirt—he realized it was sand—away from him.

"They're playing a dirty, dirty trick" Piggy slid his glasses back on and puffed his cheeks out. "You've got to show that you're chief!"

"How, Piggy! What do I do!?"

"Relax…" a new voice broke into the blonde's train of thought and the fat boy's warm and comforting image disappeared through a fog. Ralph, calling slightly to Piggy, now could only see blackness and if he hadn't realized that it was because his eyes were shut, he'd have thought he was dead. Revealing his brown, dilated eyes, the boy blinked and found that his lower body felt numb. He looked down and saw that he was waist deep in clear, chlorine water, the sounds of loud, brash boys and girls encircling his ears and the strong frame of Jack Merridew pressed to his back, the barbarian's hot breath on his ear and neck. "Relax, Ralphie. I won't hurt you. Promise."

The ex-chief blinked back tears. Piggy's image had reminded him of where he really stood, in front of Jack, in front of the hunters and in front of the people who still believed in him. Kathy and Henry and Sam and maybe even Eric.

"You played a dirty trick, Merridew" Ralph responded. Jack grinned, the slightest hint of confusion surfacing on his face, but that didn't stop him from making a secretive move, letting his hands slid around the boy's chest and grazed the sweet skin under neither. However, Ralph did not respond in the way he'd wanted. Soft, brown eyes met hard blue eyes and the two boys now faced each other, his enemy having ripped himself away from the hunter's arms. Jack's skin was flushed and his teeth were chattering, unbeknownst to him.

"Did I?"

"Yes, and I won't fall for it again," Ralph scoffed. He sunk his arms into the water and with a powerful push, the blonde brought them out, facing the red head, a giant wave of water pursuing them and in the next moment, Jack was pushed back, water moistened right into his face, and he coughed as the liquid entered his nose and mouth.

The people around them were laughing again and now splashing their friends, shifting the pool's water around until it leapt over the edge and wasted on the dead soil. In the confusion, as Jack fixed himself, Ralph moved to the edge of the pristine hole, trying to climb out, pushing past squeezing bodies. A hand shot out, grabbed the blonde's soaked shirt and hauled the lean boy out, another hand positioned on his chest. When he looked up, Ralph met with a frantic, iron gaze that was all too familiar but easy enough to differentiate.

"Oh Jesus," Ralph gulped and coughed out his own spit, shaking, "Eric…"

"You're looking well, Ralph" Eric Mar smiled weakling, pulling the blonde to his feet. Sam was right beside his brother, rubbing Ralph's back and straightening him out. He hugged the blonde tightly afterwards, and Kathy, who'd reappeared out of no where, came to wrap herself around Ralph's neck, nuzzling his shoulder.

"Are you ok!?" she asked, grazing the boy's wet face. Sam and Eric stood on either side of their former Chief, ready when he needed help to walk. Henry came to stand in front of Ralph, next to Kathy. The teenager looked around at the four in front of him, at their worried faces, and he held back a lung of real tears.

"I-I'm fine guys! Really!" he chortled, wiping saliva from his chin. To prove this, he composed himself, staring at all of them in a way that made them have to believe he was telling the truth. While Jack clearly had an ability to frighten and put people in their place, Ralph had a special ability also. He made his friends feel sheltered and safe, cozy and helpful in a giddy sense. Eric patted Ralph's arm and Sam smiled.

"Let's just get the heck out of here!" Henry declared, noticing the splashing party was dieing down and having no doubt Jack would find them right away.

"I am so with you!" Kathy laughed. The four then took their leaving, moving across the field, with Roger's dark, cruel and _angry_ eyes following them.

* * *

**D: Am I not putting enough Jack x Ralph loving!?**

**I've been getting that strange suspicion and have been told that there isn't much progress in their relationship!**

**I gotta pay attention to them more .!!!**

**Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks for the reviews!!**

**I've actually lately been feeling that my writing style has shifted quite a bit…Have you guys noticed? If so, is it a bad shift O.o? And I promise to write more Jack x Ralph!!**

**Please enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

It took a few tries for Ralph to get his car started but after a few expert gestures from Eric and fiddling with his brakes, the car finally revved up, growling with life, and Kathy, who was sitting beside Ralph, chuckled as the vehicle lurched back, sending Eric toppling over Sam. Ralph fixed the mirror latched onto the ceiling near the front mirror.

"Are you sure your brother won't mind?" he asked, looking at the brunette from the mirror. Henry nodded and grinned, shuffling back as the twins righted themselves in their seats. His brother was still at home and by the look of the purple bags under his eyes, Oliver would be glad to not be awakened from the deep sleep he no doubt was taking at that moment.

Ralph turned and peered through the back window. The ditch he'd parked in seemed to have gotten steeper, which made him rationally wonder if the hunters had messed with the hill. But he didn't bother with that as he told himself, promising once again, that he would not be bothered by them, not be dragged down by his memories of the island. With the former littleuns' glowing faces still looking up to him, he knew he could never let Jack into his thoughts again.

"Be careful," Kathy commented, stroking Ralph's arm a bit. The blonde blushed at this action and he hoped no one noticed. The woman truly reminded him of a certain tanned, wise child who knew exactly what the beast _was_ and had tried to warn everyone rightfully. Ralph quickly shook the image away and made his car pull upwards. Tires finally met balanced soil and he nearly avoided a couple making out at the darkest corner of the house. Their cursing was ignored by everyone in the car. Ralph spun the wheel in front of him and they made their way slowly till rubber met cement before speeding up onto the street.

Ralph promised to drop the twins off at the nearest station. It was nearly 2:50 and the buses would be open right about now. Kathy was next, living closer to the school, and Henry was last, being a neighbour to Ralph. As the group sat in silence, content on watching the dark houses go by, Eric Mar's troubled mind reeled. He bit his bottom lip and watched as a lamppost blinked and left his sight. What Maurice had said rang in the boy's head like an alarm. The fact that he hadn't even looked around for Roger was a deadly step. He feared for his and Sam's _lives_ around that boy. He was completely inhuman on all levels if one asked Eric.

He looked over at Sam who was chatting away with Kathy about an up coming soccer game. His soft brother's face shined with happiness and Eric knew that if Roger was going to do anything to them, he most certainly that he would protect Sam at all costs.

* * *

_Piggy's got the conch!_

_That's right. Favour Piggy as you always do…_

_The rules! You're breaking the rules!_

_You're a beast and a swine and a bloody, bloody thief!_

Jack Merridew growled, baring white near-canine teeth, and slammed his hand against the water's surface, creating a tidal that burst out of it's surface and attacked his arm before descending back down, his frustrated image rippled and destroyed. But the boy's blue eyes didn't quit in their burning. He straightened up, kicking some spilt water back into the pool before turning around and sliding his hands into his pockets. A snarl stayed on his face and he refused to acknowledge any of the leaving guests. Which wasn't hard as they all, despite perhaps being brought up in polite homes, did not say good bye or thank Jack for the invites. He wasn't expecting any thanks either way. Other than his hunters, to an extent, the savage did not particularly care for anyone else's feelings and wants.

Cheap perfume still stuck to his drenched pants and he wrinkled his nose at the scent.

The yard was nearly empty now, leaving behind a mess that looked like a tornado had struck the area. Paper cups, plates and bags of chips lay strewn on the grass and the smell of alcohol was everywhere. Some tables had been pushed over on their side and a few important articles of clothing like bras and shirts were thrown in every which way. If he hadn't been in such a foul mood, Jack would have laughed at the site of a girl's skirt hanging limp over his mother's favourite window panel.

"Chief" Roger's voice rang out. It seemed distant and small as Merridew's ears were just getting used to the silence of his home again.

"What do you want?" he hissed, not facing his second-in-command. He sat on the grass next to the mini garden where some servants planted green leaf herbs for tea and mint. He hated tea.

Roger came to stand beside his leader and looked down at the sulking form. "You're toy bit back?"

Jack didn't even reply. At times, the hangman really was insufferable, saying things aloud that he knows would cause a likeable reaction in his favour. On the island, and before the island even, while they were still unknowing choirboys, Jack had been edgy with Roger Paling. He was a fierce man who was powerful enough to crush anything in his way. However, he always lacked what people would call a 'charm' of some sorts. And if one only had their cruel ways without a form of tricking people, they were just frauds in Jack's eyes. That was what Roger was to him at a point. He respected the barbarian but still was watchful of his move as much as he was with Ralph.

Ralph…Jack raked harsh fingers through his hair and glared at nothing. That son of a bitch. Ralph was irritating and as hard as women to understand. One minute, he was at Jack's mercy, clearly frightened all over again. Merridew had loved that look on the blonde most of all. But the events in the pool seemed to have flicked some trigger in Ralph and he hadn't even given Jack one lick of fear. Just a numb hatred that cooled throughout the red head's body. Those soft brown eyes he was fascinated with hardened in an instant and he could remember the image of a scrawny but attractive little boy, dirtied with sand and mud, but standing tall and strong, scolding Jack for letting the fire go out.

The thought of the island brought the red head back again, to a time where he finally discovered what was truly 'wrong' with him. He'd always been a bit domineering, enjoying the power he had on the choir and was a natural born but hard leader. Like his father, though he never liked _that_ comparison. Father Michael and his mother were terribly worried about his nature, and how he would be when he grew up. Jack himself was semi-convinced that there was something strange about him, not necessarily a bad strange, though. But after the island, and even more so after Room 201 and Golding, he finally realized who he really was and accepted himself even when everyone else didn't. He loved to be in charge, lead an army and most of all, of course, control people's very lives. To hold them in the palm of his hand. He had that feeling as he hunted down Ralph in those last few minutes on that useless piece of land. The thought of capturing his eternal enemy, make him cower and bend to his will, was exhilarating and Jack never wanted that taste to leave his system.

Ralph had that one power to make him feel deliciously fueld. Simon had been quick and a bit frightening, the hunt having not even started, and Piggy's death was just great, satisfying in a short-term form. The fatass was always in the way. Without him and his stupid conch, he and Ralph might have been closer. Or maybe not. Jack knew that they had similar personalities in general and they would always clash. Fate made them enemies, rivals forever, never to find a friendship. But he had still tried then. Now he didn't plan to try anymore. He wanted to continue chasing Ralph, never to let him go.

Jack shivered and a small smile finally grazed his face, his features softening and his muscles loosening. Roger noted this change in his leader with a keen eye and scratched the back of his head absentmindedly.

_Yes_, Jack thought_, let's play, Ralphie_. Again, that sense of the hunt, the thrill of chase and the competition ignited something within Jack. He wasn't sure when he had begun to feel so attracted to Ralph. He knew that if his family knew, they would send him straight to the church to ask for forgiveness for feeling this way about another male. But Jack did not want that. They shared a 'special' connection. He'd make sure that they continued their game until their very deaths.

But a looming factor still rose over the red head. The issue about the littleuns. Eric and Sam. And Henry as well. Not to mention that bitch Kathy. They could easily reawaken Ralph's memory and remind him that he was not a prey and wouldn't stand for being looked at like that. This would evidently throw a wrench in Jake's whole ideology about their relationship, stopping the hunt all together. He _wouldn't_ have of anything like that. And even thinking about _his_ Ralph and Williams _dating_ just drew out a deep anger within him. An anger that would no doubt lead him to find a stick, sharpen it at both ends and go looking for Kathy by himself if he had to.

Jack bit his lips and drew himself back to his feet, wiping away leaves that stuck to his drying body. Roger blinked at this action.

"What are you gonna do?" he asked, folding his arms and cocking an eyebrow at the red head. Jack merely grinned at him and stepped away, coming closer to a teetering table. He grabbed a few bottles of booze still left and took one out, opening it with a sharp tug tug. Burning liquid coursed down Jack's throat as he slid the other bottles under his armpit, then wiped away spilt alcohol when he tipped it straight again. Roger couldn't help but be impressed by the red head's stamina in his hold of liquor. The hangman followed the other as he began to come around the house, and watched as his leader approached the mansion's wide, pure white wooden garage door. It was old-fashioned, with carvings of elegant flowers and birds painted in blue charcoal, and the last remains of what the house used to be—a hotel.

People were still making their way to their cars, and the sounds of engines starting and the beeping blinks of vehicles unlocking surrounded the area. Tires screeched against the pavement and drove away, howling teenagers poking their heads out of the window. Friends and acquaintances waved at each other, saying goodbye and forming groups in cars. Jack watched them for a bit, eyes narrowed and careful as the only two or three cars still remained, their owners judging who was ok and who was too drunk too drive. This never mattered to the chief savage.

Roger watched Merridew turn and click a button on the surface of the door. Rusty sounds were quickly heard as the object raised itself up, groaning like an old woman's tired bones. Dust particles fell from the tip but Jack ignored the dirty rain, stepping into the cold area. A sleek black Chevrolet came to view, reflecting back the light of the moon and across Jack's solemn face. Roger was patient in his showing, this time not escorting the other to his car.

"Go home, Paling," the red head noted with a lazy tone. He grabbed the old keys from the hook near the door separating his home's foyer and the garage, and came to the side of the contraption, sticking the key into the small slot. His eyes glittered dangerously.

_You're a beast!_

He damn sure was.

* * *

"Here we go," Ralph said in an almost whispering tone. Kathy looked out her window at the still body of her home, sitting neatly in a bed of flowers and tall, uncut grass. Henry patted the woman's shoulder and smiled in a silent goodbye. She returned the smile and got out, followed by Ralph who impulsively felt the need to walk her the few feet it would take up her driveway. The lights were off inside and out, and the two shrouded in the shadows of the front porch. Kathy stopped in front of her door and smiled nervously at Ralph.

"Thanks for driving me home," she began to say and shuffled her feet a bit. Ralph grinned at her and nodded, his form outlined by the white light above. Black strands of her hair stuck out and he itched to slide them behind her ears.

"It's no problem."

Williams raised her eyes and locked onto the blonde's. It was a bit hard to see but she was surprised that she hadn't realized how gentle his face really was. It wasn't like a baby face, much older and much more mature. He'd always been a strange person to her because she always suspected that he was smarter than what was let on. The mysterious aura that surrounded him was like the hunters and Jack, but it was much different in a way she couldn't pinpoint. Perhaps it had something to do with the whole island fiasco…hardly anyone in school or in the press remembered the event but Kathy would never forget seeing Ralph in the newspapers.

Setting her mouth into a definite straight line, the female gripped the boy's arms and, raising on her toes, kissed his right cheek lightly, feeling him tense then relax as she let go. Kathy shot one more odd smile and turned to unlock her door.

"I'll see you at school," she mumbled and Ralph nodded as she entered her home and closed the door. The blonde stood there for awhile, basking in what happened with sheer glee. She'd _kissed_ him! He tried to force a flutter in his chest to die down as he made his way back to the vehicle, Henry lazily bending over his seat. A pink flush etched onto Ralph's features and refused to let go while a goofy smile played his lips.

He pulled out of Williams's driveway and darted down the street again, his mind a haze and cloudy. He'd almost past his own neighbourhood if it weren't for Henry poking him in the shoulder and pointing to the nearest corner. Turning the wheel, Ralph drove down more house-dense areas and squeezed his eyes to vainly try and see better in the darkness. His headlights illuminated the gold-coloured numbers on each home and he pulled up to a house with '56' nailed onto the right side of the deck. As he had done with Kathy, Ralph stepped out of his car just as Henry was closing the side door. The two boys smirked at each other before making there way up the empty sloop and towards the red-painted entranceway.

That was when they heard it. The close roar of another vehicle's engine. When they made it to the antique mat, right outside the front door, a coal-adorned car glided up behind Ralph's, next to the sidewalk, and both teenagers turned their heads, surprise written on their faces. They could have sworn that they'd been alone on the streets, not sensing another car in the midst at all. Ralph narrowed his eyebrows as the convertible came to a sudden, slightly messy halt and the driver's door was open violently. The figure that stepped out was hidden in the night for just a second before their headlights projected the body. Henry's eyes widened considerably and Ralph felt a shiver go up his spine.

Jack Merridew came around his car, with a very poisonous smile on his face, and stood right at the foot of the Sales's driveway, his eyes pale and hard.

Ralph's muscles tensed under his skin and he swallowed a lump of cold fear that welled severely. Henry stepped beside his blonde friend, not taking his eyes off Jack for even a second. The shock of seeing the red haired demon sizzled down, replaced with swirling emotions infiltrating both their sensibilities.

"Ralph…" the brunette whispered, earning a deathly glare from Merridew which made Henry choke on his words suddenly. The shadows of the evening coupled with the hollow light from his blinder obscured Jack in the blanket of a devil. He seemed ten times more frightening, the edges of his face defined and too focused for Henry's liking.

"Get inside your house," Ralph hissed, eyebrows knitted. He was already making his way down the stairs attached to the old porch and coming to stand in front of the white garage door. No car separated the two enemies.

"But Ralph!" Henry called, frozen with agitation and shifting his gaze from one rival to the next. His legs stuck to the ground and he cursed his cowardice for what seemed like the hundredth time. Again, his Chief was in danger and Henry was too scared to do anything useful.

"Get inside right now," the blonde called, his teeth gritted. "Just go."

"Aw, you don't want an audience?" Jack asked in fake shock. Ralph did not reply or react to the tone. This distressed Jack and caused the smile on his face to disappear in an instant, bringing to light his real, even more nightmarish emotion. Henry couldn't look at the red head's face and settled for Ralph's. The former Chief looked collected and suppressed but if one knew Ralph like Henry, they could easily digest his feelings from the tremor in his neck and the sweat slipping down his temple. Whether that was because of the unbearable Liverpool heat during the night or because of the demon on the other end of the driveway, it could be debatable.

"Leave Henry!" Ralph exclaimed, ripping himself away from the sight of Merridew to give the brunette a desperate but strong look. Struck by the emotion filtering through his friend's eyes, Henry gulped loudly and nodded, shaking a bit as doubt boiled acid-like in his chest. He swiped a hand through locks of hair stuck on his forehead and turned, darting to his door. From this angle, he couldn't see Ralph anymore but Jack was in clear view, like a black and red blur. With one last disdainful glance, Henry unlatched the lock on his door and disappeared. Once he was inside, unbeknownst to either of the boys outside, the brunette quickly ran to the closest window in his living room and tried to see through the smudged glass. He did not at all want to leave Ralph out there with a monster but he feared how the blonde would worry about and get distracted by him if he stayed.

_I'll just stay here till he needs me_. This was a silent thought.

"You're totally not cute like this," Jack pouted, the expired wave of humour passing his eyes reappearing. Ralph merely cocked his head to the side in a way he hoped looked both curious and mocking, letting golden hair spill over his face. But this only set a grand fire burning in the pit of Merridew's stomach and he began his approach, one foot after the other, in a sort of haste, up the charcoal drive way. Ralph quickly noted, though, the sloppiness of his hunter's pace and a thought flickered in his mind. It was only when Jack came right up to him, standing a respectable but unnerving distance away, did Ralph know. He could see the red head's eyes overtly, bloodshot, and his chest heaved up and down unnaturally. He was drunk.

_Fantastic_, Ralph groaned in his mind. As if Jack wasn't already dangerous when he was somber.

One tanned arm extended itself and a strong, dry hand sat on the cool surface of the white garage entrance, trapping Ralph's right side. The blonde could only flinch as the scent of beer snug his nose.

"What do you want?" the blond asked, trying to back away more but couldn't. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Jack's second hand came up and gripped his rival's chin roughly, nail biting into the skin. Ralph winced a bit and fought as those sharp fingers pulled him closer till their lips brushed marginally. Without wanting it, images of their last time projected in Ralph's mind and he placed his own hand on the red head's face, pushing him away.

"Quit being so stubborn," Jack hissed, voice slurred, "why are you denying what you desire? That doesn't sound like you, Ralphie."

"This isn't…" Ralph's eyes averted and he stared down at his sneakers, the smallest tint of pink one his cheeks evident even in the dark. The red head leaned in, a strand of hair away from making skin contact with his prey. Hot, sour breath hit the blonde's face and he squirmed, a stronger body pressing against his.

"Come on, piggy. Let's play."

* * *

**This actually turned out longer then I thought but I didn't want to leave without some Jack x Ralph!**

**I don't write yaoi scenes very well…I'm so sorry for my fail .!**

**But I hope you all liked this chapter!**

**And I think I'm making Jack a little **_**too**_** obsessed…I don't think I intended for that to happen…**


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm sorry for such sissy updating!**

**In exchange, here's the longest chapter of written thus far in my fanfiction career XD**

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Ralph and Jack stood there for a moment, basking in the cool weather of Liverpool's night. A breeze ruffled their drying pants and Jack made a small noise in the back of his throat. Something like a mix of a groan and sigh. Impatient, the red head's fingers returned to Ralph's chin and lifted his head up so they could make complete eye contact. Jack bent down, smiling as his prey tried vainly to squirm away again only to be trapped fiercely by the savage's body. Their lips touched, this time with much more pressure. Ralph struggled to push away but Jack simply grabbed his wrist and slammed it onto the garage door. The blonde squeezed his lids shut fiercely, trying to block out the whole moment but Jack kept his eyes wide open.

His knee came up in between Ralph's legs and pushed upwards. Falun broke the kiss with a gasp, returning to reality and cursing Jack colourfully, glaring down at his thigh. The red head chuckled and tried to keep his composure as the alcohol in his system drowned his blood cells and caused the ground to tilt a little. The thrill it brought on was amazing.

"Look at me," he whispered, tracing a finger over his prey's cheekbones. Ralph did not comply. Jack repeated his statement, harsher this time. "Look at me now."

"Get away from me," the blonde growled, finally looking up again. He hadn't realized just how tall Jack really was till then. The red head towered over him for at least 5 inches. It was slightly intimidating, but he refused to let it bother him. "Why can't you just leave me alone…?"

That question was sourly agitating Jack. He frowned, eyes growing more morbid, buried under shadows. "I don't want to."

"That's stupid," Ralph continued. Piggy's image flashed in his mind and he just got madder. "You're so stupid, Merridew! You just can't let go of anything! You're insane and a monster!"

"And a bloody, bloody thief?"

Ralph paused, his next rant clogged in his throat, and he blinked, with a perplexed face, at his hunter. Jack's body was coldly still and silent. And even though the blonde felt a pang of relief, it soon disappeared as the situation began feeling more foreboding then before. He couldn't see the monster's visage properly in the darkness, but he could sense those now dead blue eyes, washed away and dimming, on him. Not to mention what he'd said…it poked at something in Ralph's distant memories.

"It's what I am, right? You said it yourself." The red head hissed, and he scrunched up his nose, conjuring a menacing smile.

"Cause you stole Piggy's glasses…"

The savage bent down and kissed the boy ravishingly, sharp teeth tearing the pink flesh of Ralph's lips and the former Chief winced at the pain, tasting the salty ginger mixed with their battling tongues. Jack's mouth moved to the right earlobe and down to well-wired neck, his hungry grazes forming angry crimson lines on the well-peach skin. Ralph made a move to push away but an animalistic gnarl stopped him and he let Jack pull on his collar to reveal more from his set shoulders. The beast hummed and trailed a hand under the blonde's shirt. Ralph shivered at the icy touch and wished, again, for this moment to just disappear, to detach himself from this body, to be anywhere but here, under Jack's thumb, perhaps forever.

"Agh…" Merridew lurched forward suddenly, as if shoved viciously, and for a shocking moment, Ralph wondered if Henry had come out, seen the scene and defended his former Chief. If he had, he was in for a serious beating cause Jack had looked about ready to kill anyone a few seconds ago. But when the blonde raised his head and saw no one there, he gasped and watched as the hunter jerked forward again and seemed ready to just topple over right then and there. Ralph had a sense of what was coming next and frantically tried to squirm out of Jack's arms, but he didn't have to resist for long as the hold on him thinned considerably. Merridew seemed preoccupied with something else. Like throwing up.

Ralph had to jump back to the side, missing the puke by a few inches and twisting his face in disgust at the yellowish green blob that had slid it's way up Jack's throat, out his swollen mouth and onto the clean, black pavement of the drive-way. The smell was intoxicating.

"For the love of!" Ralph crooned loudly and watched as the teenager fell to his knees, his strong body shaking as another wave of nausea hit him like a boulder and he went about blowing more chunks. "Jesus Christ!" Ralph's hand shot out to block the stench from entering his nostrils any further. Jack was breathing hard now, red hair stuck to his sweating face, one hand clutching his chest and the other seemingly trying to dig into the hard concrete.

"U-Ugh…" the savage tried inching forward but his puffed out cheeks indicated more of the rancid spew was coming. Ralph's legs moved before his mind registered what he was doing, and paler arms then his hunter flashed out and caught Jack's body as he fell to the side. He didn't seem to respond at all, moaning instead, as the blonde cradled him, letting him barf out whatever was left before stilling him gently.

"Christ, Jack," Ralph condemned, eyes droopy at the sight of the mess. He most certainly couldn't leave it there. And he couldn't leave Jack either though it served him right!

Softly, more kindly then the savage deserved, Ralph set him down onto the cool ground and stood up. Jack wasn't moving, only the slight twitch of muscle under his cheek and the heaving chest indicated he was still alive, but the boy's normally sun-tanned face was white and hollow, eyelids shuttered. In an instant, the normally confident, pompous beast resembled a lost puppy, weak and vulnerable. This image shook Ralph and he knew it would be burned into his memory, like every other memory he had of Jack Merridew.

The blonde ripped his eyes away from the sight and rushed to the front door. As he came to position himself inside the house's shadow, he wondered vaguely if Henry would still answer him. The boy's large brown eyes had been filled to the tip with fear and resentment at the sight of the ungodly savage. But he'd looked semi-determined when Ralph had shooed him away. He was certain that the littleun would just get hurt somehow, or worse, see Jack come onto Ralph like that in a compromising way that would leave awkward questions littering the younger teenager's mind. The blonde was not ready to face that. He _himself_ wasn't even ready to face the boiling heat that blazed in his gut when Jack had touched him.

Taking the risk, Falun breathed in and out, then knocked on the smooth surface softly, almost hoping Henry didn't hear or was upstairs, hiding away. Ralph doubted it. And his doubt prevailed this time. Not after the first two knocks, did the door swing open and Henry's still frilled form step out, his face pulled tightly in anger. When he saw who was actually standing in front of him however, his whole body deflated like a balloon and the iron pipe in his hand clattered to the floor. Ralph gulped inwardly, wondering what Henry would really have had the nerve to do if the blonde had been Jack, in all his sneering glory.

"Ralph!" the brunette exclaimed quietly, making it obvious that there were people inside sleeping. Of course there were. Henry had a family. "Are you alright! What happened! I couldn't see anything!"

"I'm fine Henry…" Ralph tired to calm the nervous boy down. "It's…it's just Jack."

Henry's face was unreadable. A mix of dire confusion and uncertainty. "…Jack?"

Instead of explaining, the former Chief brought the littleun out to see the mess on his drive way. As expected, the boy caught his breathe at the sight and held the scene in front of him.

"What happened!"

"He was drunk," Ralph answered, moving away from Henry to come stand beside the crumpled and still trembling body. Not a single cool wind ruffled the trees and swept through the streets. "Puked everywhere…sorry."

"_He_ should be the one apologizing!" the brunette snapped, narrowing his eyes to slits at Jack. All feelings of shock disappeared. "Trash! What the hell was he thinking!"

Ralph wondered if Henry would have said any of that if Jack had been standing proudly, conscience, over his own puke. The imagery was a bit humorous but Ralph didn't dare let out even a single smile.

"I gotta take him home."

"You don't have to!" Henry proclaimed, sweeping his arms over the pavement, "let's just call the cops or something! They can arrest him for vandalizing!"

Oh God, how Ralph wanted to say 'yes, yes, yes!' to that proposition. He truly and simply wanted to just leave Jack Merridew in this pathetic state, go home and sleep since he was ridiculously tired, and in the morning read about how a well-breed role-model British citizen was found like a swine in the gutter in front of a terrorized student's home. The look on Jack's face would be priceless as his status wouldn't keep him away from the prying media who would lunge themselves at his doors, wanting answers and writing lies that would tarnish his name quite quickly. The whole idea seemed amazing and juicy. Justice would be served as it should have been the many other times the Merridew family has made Jack's bullying and swindles disappear.

"You know I can't do that," Ralph said and bent down to roll the semi-awake teenager to his side after he'd reeled over on his stomach. "I gotta take him home."

"Ralph, he's Jack Merridew."

The blonde took one strong arm and threw it over his shoulder, pulling with all his might to get the red head on his feet as best he could. Jack was heavier then he looked but Ralph held steady and began a stride down the driveway, enjoying the help of the ramp shape to lead to the sleek, furnished car.

"Ralph!"

"Good night Henry," Ralph tried for a good-natured tone and a grin but couldn't fake himself to do it. Jack didn't smell a lot like his vomit but the blonde was getting sick anyways as the hot breathe hit his neck uncomfortably, smelling of something much worse than just sour alcohol. "Look at what you've done to yourself," he whispered to the corpse.

Ralph stood to think about which car he would use to get the savage home. He could use his own car to get to the household then drive back home in complete ease. But the expensive and clearly recently waxed black Toyopet perched lightly on the side glittered in mockery at him, lopsided yet impressive. Not like the blonde cared but something that valuable would be stolen in a second by any half-beat mongrel that lurked in the Liverpool streets at night. Jack would have his head for leaving it there, being the ungrateful prude that he was and all. Ralph had a feeling that even tomorrow, he would not be ready to face the hunter's wrath.

Jack's vehicle was unlocked thankfully and it was easy for Ralph to tear the back door open and finally throw the built carcass onto the glossy silk seats. He wrinkled his nose at the fresh scent of a new car and thought about how Merridew would feel when he finds his car smelling vaguely of badly gone milk. For the second time that stressful night, Ralph bit back an inappropriate chuckle. The keys were also a simple find, the shiny white keychain hanging from it while it was still jabbed into the side of the steering wheel. Ralph felt unfit sliding into the cozy seat but had to adjust to the lifestyle for a bit. Just till he got to Jack's home. Then he would dump the red head and be gone for the evening.

When he twisted the key, the car revved to life instantly and he felt a jolt of excitement course through his veins at it's powerful beating. Anyone would feel wild and crazy in such a miraculous compartment.

"Ralph…" Henry's voice seemed small and insignificant among the harsh groans of the beautiful car. But Ralph looked past his fallen hair bangs to meet the sad eyes of the littleun who didn't dare lean on the car but was close enough to see his chest and up through the side window. Ralph held his breath for a second as that ping of adventure died down, replaced with a loose guilt.

"Take care of my baby for me, k?" the blonde said quietly, hoping the brunette had heard. He gestured with his chin to the much less dazzling scruffy grey car in front of him and suddenly felt jealousy wash away guilt. Henry seemed to understand as he nodded and took another step back, probably frightened by the midnight stallion Jack had brought. Anything that savage touched seemed like devil's fire to Henry and Ralph didn't blame him.

The former Chief took his time in back out of the sidewalk and, after casting one last baneful look, slowly made his way down the dark streets of the city.

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Large and thorough chocolate brown eyes peered through the clean cut glass, trying to adapt to the darkness that enveloped the wider country-like neighbourhood sitting kindly on the outskirts of Liverpool. There were barley any lampposts stationed on the deeming concrete sidelines, and if there where, they were poorly lit, dimming only a small circumference. Ralph cursed under his breath as he felt the car jitter over something he could have seen if the short-paced headlights saw as far as they could have. The blonde wanted to shake his head in frustration but instead, wisely, kept his eyes on the road until he could see the Merridew manor over a short, steep green hill, littered with late bloomers.

As he neared the home, and suddenly a prickling sensation snaked it's way under the blonde's skin and made him shiver despite the heat enveloping inside and outside the car. The place looked abandoned and deserted though Ralph knew better, as if a dark and gloomy dusk hung over and sprinkled maleficent rain. It had a deep haunted house feeling and the spiked and curved elegance of a well-crafted and old-fashioned household didn't help.

Ralph quickly cut the engine off and the low humming came to a sudden stop, shut off non-too kindly. He pushed his door open and slide out, avoiding looking directly at the spooky mansion, and came around to the side door. When he heaved it open, Jack's groaning but nearly completely conscience body fell half out of his seat. Ralph's eyes widened and he came to put his arms under the boy's head to lift him up so he wasn't bent at such an uncomfortable angle.

"F-Fu…Jesus…" Jack moaned audibly, not really fighting back against Ralph. The boy's eyes were red and glazed, rolling to the back of his head a few times. But his arms were out, trying to balance himself in his prey's clutches. Ralph did his best to drag the stronger teenager out but Jack fell on his bottom with a grumble, knees bent and fingers grasping for a hold.

"Can you stand?" Ralph asked, grabbing those reaching hands and pulling the stumbling boy up, easing him with a stable form. Jack blinked repeatedly, as if he was twitching and squinted at Ralph with an upturned lip.

"R-Ralph?"

The blonde could practically sense the feeling of the poison coursing through Jack's nerves and emitting through his exterior body.

"Yeah. You're drunk."

Jack took his hands back and fisted them, rubbing his lids in a vain attempt to get them to work for him. But when Ralph gazed back into those sea blue eyes, they were still clouded and undiluted.

"No, I'm not," the savage crooned in a whiny way, almost, taking a step forward and stumbling on nothing. Ralph caught him but the redhead jerked away in the next instant, giving off what would normally be a glare but looked like he was squinting again.

"You are," the blonde punctured both words, trying to catch the boy's arm and steady him but this time, Merridew resisted.

"Get away from me…" he hissed. How ironic, Ralph thought with a sneer, just an hour or so ago Jack didn't want his prey out of his sight much less his clutches.

"Jack, please," this time, the blonde managed to get a hold of those set and structured shoulders, calming his hunter down and stopping his antics. "Let me help you!"

After more struggling, Jack finally just stopped, his exhaustion winning over his pride this time. Ralph allowed the teenager to lean on him as they took careful steps towards the house. Inside the porch, less light then before filtered through the small cracks on the low ceilings and Ralph felt that sense of doom forthcoming over him again. It was at this time that he wondered where Mrs. or Mr. Merridew was. If they had been at home or supervising in any way, they'd have been out there at the party, shouting at rowdy party goers to get out of their pool and to stop dirtying their clean grass and fence. If they had hired someone, that person, if they were smart enough, would have called the police halfway through the whole event.

The silence echoing against the sealed windows and the dead rooms signalled that, that was not the case. No one was here. Ralph tried to imagine coming home in the middle of the night and not having anyone there to greet him with a warm soup and milk. He pushed the cold lump in his chest away and concentrated on the task at hand.

"Help me in," Jack breathed, gulping in air now and grabbing the wall next to his door. "I wanna get to my bed…"

Well, that wasn't really the plan. Ralph wanted to jeer at the red head, let him take the responsibility of getting _himself_ inside cause he put himself in this position and who was he to command Ralph to do something so trivial.

Then Jack looked into his prey's big burnish eyes as best he could and the blonde's anger shattered at the sad sight of his fearsome enemy. He really just couldn't leave him there like that, scatter-brained and defenceless. How could he look at himself in the mirror? What if Jack would hurt himself? Falun wanted to believe he didn't care but he did and it was unfathomable why.

"Alright," he finally replied, sighing. "Got a key on you?"

Jack shook his head, kinky loose hair flying into his face, and pointed instead to one of the three potted plants sitting perfectly assembled on one side of the porch. There were two small fir trees and a large, blooming purple flower with yellow tints on the inside. Ralph looked at the plants then looked back at Jack who furrowed his eyebrows.

"In one of the pots. I don't know which." The blonde could sense the difficulty Jack was having with just shooting that comment. He nodded and moved to the forges. Ralph didn't want to disturb their natural forms so he did his best to simply squeeze his hand past the large petals and sharp pine leaves, feeling his way through the cool soil. In the first two, he didn't get anything, red marks trailing horizontal from the firs. One the third pot, he struck luck, feeling some other creamy coldness sending messages through his fingertips. He curled his fingers around the curvy key and pulled it out swiftly but lightly.

"God, hurry up!" Jack cracked, grasping his forehead and grinding his teeth in pain. A bubbly feeling in his stomach signalled more sickness and the sweat on his body made him feel ugly and dirty. Ralph eyed his enemy with sullenness before ascending the small, carved flight of stairs back to the entranceway. He slid the key into it's hatchet, twisted his hand to the right till he heard a resounding click and the door letting itself go. Ralph pushed in slowly with his shoulder, hearing the slight screech that you wouldn't have been able to sense if it wasn't completely silent.

Jack this time took an initiative to wrap his arms around Ralph's shoulder and hoist himself from his half-fallen position. Ralph nearly toppled over by the unsuspected weight and he scoffed at Jack, but eased the boy again and stepped into the empty home, pushing the door behind closed with his free foot.

The inside was just as eerie as on the outside, and Ralph took a quick, ambiguous peek into the rooms without doors. The windows that should have shot light into the wide areas were silenced by thick, velvet curtains that the blonde could barley see if he hadn't squinted. Jack nudged the boy towards a taller, much older flight of stairs and didn't meet his eyes. The red head didn't seem to like his prey checking out his boarding at all. Ralph was just fine with this as he convinced himself he was not interested in Jack's stupid mansion.

The two boys collectedly made their way to the foot of the stairs and after a pause from Ralph, began to take basic steps up, adjusting to each other's weight thanks to the railings that the blonde desperately grasped more than a few times. The journey seemed to take forever with all trips and spills, though it only lasted around 2 minutes. Falun wondered why a staircase should even be this ridiculously long and this ridiculously furnished, with red satin carpet underneath and the walls painted an alabaster orange. Ralph tried not to gawk as he needed to remember that this home belonged to a beast and no matter how hypnotizing and inviting it was, evil had taken over and reformed it to a black hell. That evil was currently leaning from side to side, trying to clasp onto a sense of feeling and push away revulsion, making the tiring climb upwards and onto the last foot of the stair.

There, Ralph pretty much had to drag the red head down the hallway, who'd given up on his legs, which was a hassle as many doors seemed to cover both panels, each painted and carved in the same fashion.

"Merridew, where's your room?" Ralph wasn't sure why he had felt the need to whisper this.

"Room…?" Jack coughed and swallowed hot stomach acid from his throat. He shuddered and squeezed his eyes as his brain bounced against the walls of his skull. Or at least that's how it felt like to him.

"Merridew..." Ralph called in surprisingly soothing way. Jack gulped in a wad of saliva and noted to himself that he rather liked that tone in the blonde's voice.

"Ah, last door on the right," Merridew struggled to show he still had some strength but failed, tripping over his legs again. Fortunately, Falun was there to catch him.

The last door on the right didn't look any different than the other doors except that it had Jack's name carved in a plate that was screwed onto the middle and painted gold. Ralph raised an eyebrow but said nothing. After all, Jack _was_ the 'young master' of the house. It was only natural he have such a tag. And this door, after further inspection, actually looked cared for than the other. The blonde's lips curled as he remembered his own carving of Jack's name, planted specifically on the corner of his desk, though it was more out of hatred in all sense of the word than out of respect.

Thankfully, it wasn't sealed in any way and was effortless to push open and enter. Ralph flickered on the lights but that wasn't too necessary when he looked up. He was surprised to find the wide window on the other side not only curtain-free but also wide open, letting the smell of the country inside, grass and flowers mixed into one sweet nectar. The room was large in of itself, supplied with hefty furniture from the Queen-sized bed, folded and neatly tucked, to the outstretched closet on the right side, closed and buffed. The place was also uncluttered, which struck Ralph as odd since Jack didn't seem like the neat-freak type. Perhaps a server at taken care of this. That made more sense.

"Come on Jack," Ralph pulled on the red head and, digging into the last bits of power he had, Merridew forced his muscles to obey him to move, disliking the lack of strength he had on his own body. When he'd just made it to the foot of his bed, the savage was let go of and flopped onto his nice velvet sheets like a lifeless rag doll. Ralph stretched his swore shoulders, thinking he may have twisted something as an ache etched it's way down his arm. He needed to remember to get to exercising more.

Once he'd checked himself up, Falun turned to stare down at his rival. Jack's eyes were closed but instead of being squeezed shut, they were lightly folded, his long eyelashes casting elongated shadows on his cheek. He still looked better than before but still ghastly, alveolate and placid. Ralph pondered what kind of remedy cured drunkenness or whether a good's night sleep and maybe a cup of water would do just fine. And what about hangovers? Well, the blonde didn't really plan to stay that long at all.

Ralph rested his palm on Jack's shoulders and bent down to speak into the boy's ear. "Jack, I'm going. Don't do anything stupid ok?"

There was a small grunt from the savage. Ralph took this as a response and turned to leave, the thought of how he was going to get home without using the black Toyopet worrying his frilled nerves. But clammy fingers made the decision for him. Falun stopped in abruptness and he looked down at his wrist where four strong fingers and a thumb with a chipped clinched as strong as iron. How could Jack have that much strength in him left?

Ralph wheeled to scorn Merridew and tell him off but marble blue eyes stopped his next words. From his position, face first in soft material, only Jack's right eye peeked out from behind frantic and sweat-drenched red hair. But that was powerful enough to stop the blonde. Jack was a strong man, a natural leader and a natural fear. Ralph tended to forget that.

"Don't go," Jack mumbled, but in a deep accent that froze Falun. "Just don't. Stay here."

Ralph wanted to fight, to wrench his hand away and possibly throw a kick into the redhead's gut for being so ungrateful and selfish and he didn't belong to him. But instead of wisely leaving, the blonde, too burnt out to fight back in any shape or form, fell to his knees. His wrist was released and he flopped down on the floor, parallel to Jack's body and leaned back.

"Thanks," Merridew breathed but it was too quiet for Falun to hear or care about even.

Ralph laid himself down amply on the silk carpeting and closed his eyes, sighing. He'd have to think about how his father dealt with hangovers in the morning.

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**Oh wow, this took me awhile to get finished…**

**-sigh-**

**But I hope it turned out decent enough!**

**Thanks for staying patient guys! **


	12. Chapter 12

**I really don't have much of a note at the moment other than sorry for the bad updates…**

**-sulks-**

**Please enjoy this chapter nonetheless!**

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Moist, dirt-covered feet crushed the defenceless dead and decaying weeds in a frantic nature, heavy breathing drumming out the sounds of branches and twigs snapping and leaving bloody trails on the 12-year-old's legs and chest. Tears and the everlasting colour of green blurred Ralph's vision, his blood pumped ten folds in his veins and his adrenaline peaked at an unhealthy level. One tree root stuck out, and caused him to tumble forward, hands outstretched to grab nothing and a cry tearing from his throat. Rocks and dirt met his face and sank into his skin as he rolled down a steep hill that ended at the foot of a chorus of trees. Ignoring the searing pain, especially from his left shoulder, the boy slid up and moved slower now, lungs drying, wiping the sweat from his temple.

An echo of a call resounded, a bellow of death, shaking Ralph, and he sprang into another sprint, slipping through two closely intertwined trunks and finding coverage in a sheet of vines. The smooth and spooky thick green snakes hung loosely, shielding the sun and the smoke in the air from the boy's sight and smell, but he still felt vulnerable and the coolness of the vines against his burning back was troubling.

"Where is he?" an angry voice of a hunter screeched against the blonde's eardrums and he tried to silence himself by putting a soil covered hand over his quivering lips.

There was a mumble or two, but Ralph blocked it out and blinked numerously as his eyes stung dreadfully. Leaves were ripped from their steams, insects scurried away and the tall trees masked the area in a gloom of darkness.

"I saw him come in here…" the squeaky voice of a littleun admitted before he was admittedly shoved by a bigun. The little boy fell surely and Ralph could see just the boy's fingers and toes. One nail had chipped at some point but the blood had dried into a hardy brown scab. The littleun cried in the juvenile pain. The bigun with him apparently paid no mind to his small companion, pushing away stalks and limps with his spear, which was pointed and jagged at one end.

Ralph held his breath now and moved away further back when the weapon came a bit too close for comfort.

When Ralph managed to safely peek through a loose hole, he saw a wall of tall grass being pushed aside roughly by a scarred hand and a new figure entered the scene.

Jack Merridew's flaming face came into view and Ralph held the sight of the boy fast. Those water blue eyes that had looked gleaming and demanding at the beginning were clouded and hard like cubs of ice, uncaring and savage. The red head's ugly face was scrunched up even more, lines of anger and hatred evident on the corners of his mouth, his chin and the middle of his eyes. Jack's tanned arms, golden from hunting in the merciless sun, were outstretched on both sides, one holding a long, smooth staff of sorts that looked to be the most dangerous of any weapon to Ralph. The two boys both fell silent quickly, and no wonder, with the look their Chief was giving them. Ralph wondered if the littleun had spoiled himself at the sight.

_He hates me…_the blonde thought, such an obvious thought, but he needed to remember. If he was caught, he was dead. No deals, like Samneric, no mistakes, like Simon. And no humility, like Piggy. Oh how Ralph wished the fat boy was right there with him…but then again, he could have made too much noise on account of his ass-mar.

"Ralph," Jack finally spoke in a low voice that held no chance of a reply. At the sound of his name being said with more malice then he thought possible, Ralph perked, eyes squinting through the passage and locking plainly with the deathly and fixed stare of Jack Merridew.

_No…_

The hunter's face darkened even more so and a twitch of the cheek brought a sneer and a cruel smile playing across his features.

"I win."

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A low but happily shining sun broke through the dawn and met the scurried, grass-covered lands of West Liverpool, with a soft morning wind following it's wake. Animals that had buried themselves in their shelters for the night awoke early and stepped out to begin their regular day. The ball of fire above also drew a line of yellow against the outlining of a large and old-fashioned mansion, surrounded by a divine forest and an outstretched field of grass, littered with empty and half empty bags of chips, crumpled plastic cups and cans of booze, and fallen tables. The normally dazzling pool across the lawn looked like it had been cleared of almost all of it's liquid quantity and pieces of candy wrappers had sunk and lay at the bottom in masses. Clothing, from pants to sweaters to bras, hung over anything that could act as a banister and danced with the wind. Inside the hotel-turned-home, all was silent and clean except for a small trail of dirt leading from the front door and upstairs, disappearing around a corner.

When the sun extended a bar of golden light into the ample room, Jack Merridew ripped his eyes open slowly, painfully, as if his lids had been stitched together. He stayed still though, with only enough energy to lift his head ever so lightly and look out of the drawn window at the clear blue sky that smiled at him annoyingly. He groaned and fluttered his eyes closed again. His stomach had calmed down from last night but it still churned and threatened to explode should he move around too much. His head throbbed a bit but he managed to roll over onto his side and blink away a dizziness that had slid into his conscience and tried to recount what had happened.

Well, all that turned up was a memory of getting completely smashed and whizzing my blurring lights which he assumed was him driving, then showing up at a house and then Ralph's confused, with a hint of caution, face. He couldn't seem to remember after that much other than feeling worse then he'd ever thought possible, like someone had gone and smashed a boulder against his skull. Really, that's what he got for getting in over his head and drinking while steering. A blind rage had covered his sight and a hunger for what was never his boiled in his thoughts at the time.

Jack stayed where he was, lying on his side, for another minute or so, till he could grip some sense of his surroundings and pulled himself, with more force than usual, upwards. The light from outside blurred his vision and he blinked furiously, glaring. He'd hated waking up to the sun's gleam, the heat reminding him of days waking up under a rickety tree shelter in his shorts or more than occasionally in nothing at all, and took it upon himself to close his blinders everyday. But his mother, worried her son wouldn't get enough UV rays, always pulled them open again and he'd get sourly angry but say nothing to her weak form.

A double check assured him that not only was his bloody window unblocked but it was also wide open, letting in a cool breeze, and his favourite white satin curtains weren't there anymore. That was very out of the ordinary, even for Amelia. He'd have to think about what that meant later. Right now, he felt completely drained and utterly disgusting, like the time he'd taken a 500 mile race at school and had to switch shirts because his was drenched in smelly sweat. Jack hated being dirty. Even if he'd found the smallest hint of a spot on his pants, he wouldn't have of it. Jack was a neat-freak through and through. He had always been, since he could remember. The island had been a different story but he would still go looking for the cleanest rock to stand or sit on and wash his meat with sea water before eating it. And now, he demanded a shower above all else.

The red head, who felt ok enough to get out of bed without suffering another dizzy spell, froze suddenly when he heard a shifting sound below him. This surprised him dearly and again he tried to remember what exactly happened and how, now that he was at it, he'd wind up back at home like this. His head cleared a bit more for him, thankfully, and he began to remember new images. A shot of a driveway, then Ralph's face, open with mild concern, above his this time, as if he'd grown much taller, then the smell of leather and his house, awaiting like an irritable butler. It got less clear as his memory reeled more images but he could recall leaning on someone, Ralph, when he concentrated, and stepping into his living room, crisp with the permanent and extremely vague scent of blossom. He was then hoisted onto his stairs and dragged down the hallway, where Ralph had asked him a question he'd barley answered, and was taken to his room. After collapsing on the welcoming bed, Merridew had blacked out and that was as far as the film in his head could go.

So, after checking and rechecking what he remembered and coming up with nothing in the end, Jack leaned over, haltingly, and looked down at the curled up and sleeping body of his prey.

Now, the red head was very much confused and shocked at first, but noting how Ralph's face was the one clear thing about last night, wasn't totally bothered. He hadn't expected, though, that the blonde would have the guts to stick around for Jack, if the way he was treating him and their experience together was anything to go by. Surprise was replaced by an unfamiliar and fairly uncomfortable feeling in Merridew's chest and for the first time since they'd seen each other in Room 201, and perhaps since some nonchalant time on the island, he _didn't_ want to pounce on Ralph and mark him as his own. He genuinely wanted to leave him there, sleeping soundly, and not to bother him.

_I need to take a bath_, he thought with a bothered mental kick to his brain. Cautiously, he slipped out of his bed, tip toed past Ralph and, ignoring his personal bathroom sitting to the side, stepped out of his room to use the one way down in the hall.

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Ralph sat with his legs crossed and his cloudless gaze down at the sand that circled around him. A hard wind whipped his face and brought long oily blond bangs up and around his head. He blinked away the heat from above and picked at the dirt under his grey nails with hardly any interest.

Piggy, huffing and puffing, sat himself down with a hard thump beside his friend and also blinked at the searing sun with agitation, taking his glasses off and wiping them uselessly on his thin white T-shirt. Both boys sat in silence for a few seconds.

"We're never getting off this island…" Ralph finally said, tears streaming his eyes now.

"We will!" Piggy exclaimed, appalled to find out that his _Chief_ was giving up hope now. "They'll see the smoke and they'll come for us!"

"What smoke?" Ralph questioned brutally, raising his head and gazing angrily at the top of a peek to his side where only a small sign of a wisp of smoke was evident, invisible if you weren't looking for it. "There is no smoke. No one cares about the smoke. No one cares about going home or their families or their friends or eating ice cream on the beach or watching films or playing chess with their dads."

Piggy glanced at the blonde and frowned. "Stop talking like that! You'll see your family and friends again! We all will! We can't be pessimistic!"

"_Jack_…if he doesn't care, then no one does," Ralph mumbled, eyes downcast again.

"Are you really worried about Merridew!" the fat boy gasped, "he's insane, I tell you! Mad and totally out of his mind! And the other boys will see that soon and realize that they really want to go home and come back to us!"

Ralph wanted to believe that but he just couldn't.

"You can't let Jack win…" Piggy began, his voice suddenly becoming a little more distant and the blonde met his wise friend's small black eyes. "You can't let him bother you the way he does! You have to stand up for yourself and tell him off!" Piggy scowled in the heat. "You _know_ what I mean."

"He was drunk," Ralph commented, noting that his voice had become a little lower now. "I had to take care of him…"

"It was his fault," the fat boy sniffed, "like Henry said."

Ralph fixated his stare on the scenery that changed and shifted, like a shaky projection.

"He said he liked me…" he began, "can you believe that? He said he wouldn't leave me alone because I was his prey…that I was his prey alone. What am I supposed to do? What do you _say_ to that!"

Piggy remained silent, not even handing out any assurance. Ralph really didn't want any anyways. It wouldn't help.

"A boy liking another boy is wrong…" he whispered, recalling questions of homosexuality in church, "but Jack doesn't ever care about what is _wrong_…"

"But _do_ you hate it, Ralph?" Piggy asked, speaking out after staying quiet longer then usual. "You accepted being his prey, and that's a darn stupid move alright, but you're doubting something…"

Ralph looked quite baffled by this notice and thought his friend to have suffered terrible brain damage due to the sun's heat. Doubting something? What was there to doubt? It was plain and simple. Ralph was a victim of yet another one of Jack's cruel games.

"I mean," Piggy gulped and sighed heavily, "maybe it's a lot more complicated then you think…"

The blonde snorted. "Do you mean to say Jack isn't tormenting me on purpose?"

"No, he knows what he's doing." Piggy's voice was terribly clear right now, as if his asthma wasn't getting in the way of his speech like it normally did. "And he's being selfish about it, too, and definitely finds amusement in the hunt. He hasn't changed. He still loves to hurt people and control. But he's ridiculously desperate and obsessive about it, especially when it comes to you. It's pretty obvious, Ralph! He wants to own you and is doing whatever it takes for you to realize and accept it because it's easier for him! He doesn't like change! He wants to keep you scared because that's the _only_ way he can _have_ you!"

Behind them, the sounds of cheering boys chanting, happy for their latest kill, boomed louder and dissolved into vibrating slams. Above their melding tones, one voice stuck out from all the rest.

"Ralph! We got meat! Come see!" Jack exclaimed. Ralph didn't turn around to look for the red head, knowing he wasn't there and it was only his call that was evident. He continued to stare at nothing, with Piggy's quivering breathes returning absentmindedly.

"Don't let him win, Ralph. Don't be scared. If you want this to end between you two, you need to be stronger…"

"Oh Piggy," the blonde crocked, "I can't take it anymore. I want to go home."

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Ralph was never a heavy sleeper, easily awoken by the sound of his father's heavy steps or the chirping of birds on his window sill or even the warty smell of breakfast downstairs. So the touch of cold fingers on his shoulder and a gentle shake brought him back to reality in almost an instant and, groggy still, he groaned and tried to move away from the hand, his muscles to flimsy to work for him at that moment. But the fingers returned, a little more pressured, and he groaned again, opening his eyes this time and fluttering his lids at the odd sight of a white wall. Eyebrows knitted and confusion distinct on his face, Ralph shifted around and looked up to see where those fingers that had stirred him came from.

His gaze habitually went straight to those icy blue eyes, with flecks of undeniable green here and there, that haunted his nightmares first, and then his vision quickly began to fit every familiar feature plastered on the looming face of Jack Merridew. Long curls of crimson brushed against the blonde's cheek, and that was enough to jolt Ralph's memory and send him straight upwards, his forehead connecting with Jack's temple hard and consequently sending the hunter banging against the side of his bed.

"What the-!" Merridew cried, rubbing at his head, knowing there would be a bruise there soon. Ralph, too bolted, didn't feel the thrum like Jack did, but shuffled back clumsily. The red head shot a brisk look at the blonde. "What the hell was that for?"

"Why were you so close!" Ralph hollered, clutching at his chest, swearing that his heart was just about ready to jump right out of his body.

"I was just waking you up," Jack snivelled, bringing his hand back down and over her bent knees. "You were crying. I could hear you."

Ralph steadied his breathing and relaxed his shoulders that had stood right up in the aftermath. In that instant he realized that his vision was a bit hazy and reached up to touch lightly the tips of his eyes. He felt his tears on his cheek and lids, and rubbed furiously to rid the evidence. Sudden blood rushed to the blonde's neck and he looked down, stricken again, now with complete embarrassment.

"I know you think I was about to molest you or something," Jack began with a grimace, "but I feel a little too sick to play around this time."

The blonde looked up and narrowed his eyes slightly. That's right. That was why he'd been so taken aback. _That_ made sense. "Why would you care anyways that I was crying?"

Instead of snapping back, like he normally would, Jack, instead, raked long fingers through his hair.

"Why did _you_ stick around when I was drunk?" the red head asked damply.

"You asked me to."

"Did I?" Ralph wondered why Jack seemed honestly surprised. "I can't remember much…from last night I mean…it's all a haze after I threw up on Henry's drive way."

Ralph remained silent and motionless, just staring at the savage, who was sitting so close to him, and yet, didn't have a flicker of that hungry look in his eyes that he bore proudly. It was kind of strange and completely abnormal and Falun was very unsure of himself. He and Jack were actually at such close proximities from each other, while a calm and almost safe atmosphere surrounded them. This had never happened since the first few days on the island, when they weren't at each other's throats.

"You should say sorry for that," the blonde mumbled, referencing back to Henry and ripping himself from his train of thought.

Jack sneered at the comment and laughed coldly, and Ralph felt a sudden rush of relief that baffled him. An arrogant Jack he can deal with. A Jack that cares was too bizarre and, if he was going to be perfectly honest, unwanted. He truly preferred the usual savage. He could understand and follow him better. Ralph glowered and let his eyes leave Jack's face shortly. The red head had clearly changed his clothing, bearing plain jeans ripped that the ends and a white flannel shirt with three buttons at the top unlatched. He'd taken a bath, too, as the wet towel draped on his shoulder and his finally noticed wet hair explained, and there was an obvious scent of jasmine.

"Would…un, hey Ralph…" Jack fumbled. Ralph's eyes shot back to the hunter's face and the half cocky smile that now replaced his frown jolted the blonde. He flushed and pressed his back to the wall he'd pushed himself to.

"W-What?"

"Would you like to stay for breakfast?"

Ralph blinked and craned his ears. "I'm sorry…what did you say?"

"Deaf now, Falun?" Jack scoffed and raised a ruby eyebrow, "I asked if you'd like to stay for breakfast. I'm sure you're probably hungry. But I suppose we should be having brunch instead." Jack added the last part as he looked over his bed at the ticking clock on the wall's hands hit 11:30 pm. "Slept in. Wow, it's freaking late!"

Ralph didn't pay any attention to the red head's mini rant. He was instead trying to process as calmly as possible what he'd been questioned for. Brunch. Yeah, he was hungry now that his mind wandered to his stomach. He hadn't eaten much before and at the party and he'd slept without so much as a biscuit. Ralph wouldn't mind some bacon and eggs topped with peppers and roasted in honey garlic for himself. But this was Merridew…Jack Merridew was asking him to brunch. Was that even likely? He'd never imagined in his life that Jack would ask him such a question. Unless they had remained on the island, Ralph was in a big black pot over an angry fire, the savages were dancing around him and there was Jack, perched awkwardly, and asking him if he'd like to stay for dinner in the most morbid of ways while grinning as widely as the Lord of the Flies.

Ralph stopped his imagination right then and there. When he was tired and hungry, he could hallucinate the weirdest things, really.

"Hey Ralph!" Jack hissed, "don't just stare at me like that! Do you want to eat something or not?"

The blonde once again took himself out of his own little world and returned back to see Merridew leaning intently towards him. He gasped and stood up quickly, almost tripping on his own feet in haste, and moved across the large room to the doors, hunger forgotten swiftly.

"Ralph!"

"I-I'm sorry, Jack" he swallowed, "I gotta get home…"

Merridew nonetheless followed the shaken boy out, down the hallway and to the stairs.

"Hey, I'm not going to do anything!" Jack intercepted Ralph but was pushed aside anyways and growled.

"Even if you weren't bluffing," Ralph began, "my parents will be really worried about me if I don't get home soon."

When both boys were at the foot of the stairs, Jack abruptly grabbed the blonde's shoulders and spun him around. Falun could sometimes forget just how strong Merridew _was_ physically. Harsh nails dung into his shirt and hard crystal blue bore down on him.

"Stay," Jack rasped, and Ralph knew that it wasn't a request or a suggestion. It was a command. Dream Piggy's voice rang out in his mind.

'_He still loves to hurt people and control. But he's ridiculously desperate and obsessive about it, especially when it comes to you.'_

The red head dragged Ralph towards him and wrapped his arms across the blonde's back stiffly. The blonde felt the wind was squeezed out of him as his hunter hugged him deeper.

"Jack…don't," the prey fluttered.

"Jack."

Both boys jumped back in a flash, Jack's arms flung outwards and Ralph's body hitting the railings of one side of the stairs. He struggled to steady his breathing again. Damn, he simply hated being surprised like this. Regaining his composure first, Ralph looked up at Jack who's face paled terribly and a look as if someone had splashed ice cold water on him filtered through. The blonde braced himself, perplexed. He'd never seen such a frightened look on Jack's face before. It was similar to the expression he had on after mistakenly killing Simon but underlined with something else.

Turning around, Ralph immediately could tell why Jack had looked so scared.

What appeared to be quite the giant of a man stood upright and solidly on the door frame of the living room, arms across and an emotionless look on his face. He was wearing a dark blue suit, the kind businessmen wore, with a black tie and a gold clipping on the collar. Red hair, lighter hued than Jack's, was gelled back and not a hair was out of place in it's whole set up. A tight jaw made the man look like he was clenching his teeth. But what readily struck Ralph and made his heart beat rapidly again were the eyes. Small, compared to the man's elongated nose, but deathly and utterly difficult to look away from. From afar, they appeared to be black orbs but as the sun from outside hit his face, they coloured into the blue you found in the deepest oceans, endless, dangerous and malicious. Eyes that killed for the sake of killing, eyes that made you believe humanity is a lost cause, eyes that really did not belong among human beings.

Ralph didn't need a confirmation but, after a hard gulp, Jack grumbled. "Hello, Father."

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**I didn't really want to stop here, but just as well…**

**Three freakin' months…**

**Sorry guys!**


	13. Chapter 13

Bryon Merridew was a tight-laced, tight-handled commanding sort of man, with an air of absolute and unconditional authority. Whether you were an enemy or an ally, he didn't much care, so long as you knew your place and stayed to his persona. Few had managed to ever escape his presence, and if they had, their nightmares were haunted by his saturated being, looming forever in their minds. Most that had left his business side either disappeared off the face of the market or were simply never heard from again. Even his family, honest as they may be and many just as cruel, avoided his wrath. While there was flaking admiration for his stubbornness, the tint of fear that raced among businesses at the mention of his name or his company was as evident as a black stain on silky white clothes.

With skills like that, Bryon was a shoe-in to be a successful businessman, but a businessman lacking a charisma that normally followed someone trying to sell products. And the idea of _people_, regular and worthless people, threatening _him_ into bankruptcy by not buying what he had didn't sit at all well with a man like him. So instead of products, at age 20, he set his sights clearly on the oil markets. In his business, he merely needed to hint at a cut in the oil and gas charges to shake stock marketers and frighten citizens as well. Because above all else, Bryan Merridew craved to rule _over_ people, to never allow someone above his own position, never allow someone to be making the decisions for and on him. This attitude rocketed the Merridew Oil Farm to the top of the car dealership list.

The most inducing thing about the stoic man's choice to go for the oil company was his eye on the future. He could see how cars begging for bountiful loads of gas were preferred by the ignorant folks, and how they would run the streets of England very soon. He saw the outburst of the Cold War perking the attention of the British armies and navies, whose weapons and ships required all the natural resources they could get. The idea of being able to grab armies, soldiers even, and churn them into submission was a quite appealing supplement. So the oil business was a sure way for him to attain his most prized wishes. He strived for every goal ruthlessly, leaving behind enemies, opponents and family.

And now such a man was staring Ralph down like a pompous artist would to a particularly hideous piece of artwork. Eyes scanned the skinny blonde in a feverish motion. It was only after those blue eyes finally locked on to his brown that Ralph could tell Bryan Merridew already knew everything he needed to know about the teenager standing shakily, head bowed, hair sticking to his forehead, and standing relatively too close to his son.

Jack was the first among the men in the room to speak, swallowing another wade of saliva. "You're home early, father." Bryon didn't even look up from Ralph to respond. "Mother said you were on a two month business trip to the Bermuda. Your assistant didn't call to tell us you came back."

"We cut it short," the older Merridew answered, finally freeing Ralph of his gaze. "Rates were fixed within a few weeks so I just came back home early." Bryon took one step forward and Ralph felt himself physically flinch. But Jack, having been toughened by years of living under his father's thumb, didn't move a muscle, just met the other's cold gaze with a cooler one. "I see you've used my time out in the usual manner."

For a second, Ralph held his breath in fear, thinking Bryon meant the hug. But when the older man, swiped a hand towards the window, Ralph realized he'd meant the party last night, who's 'souvenirs' still littered the backyard lawn and pool.

"Right, well, I was planning to deal with that," Jack shrugged, and stuffed his hands in his pocket a little too clumsily. "I just got up but I'm planning to call someone to clean it up."

"No need. I covered that. They are on their way," Bryon answered, smoothing a non-existing wrinkle on his collar. "Where is your mother?"

"She left to meet an old friend in Dublin. She said she'd been gone a few days."

Bryon made a small, almost silent sound at the back of his throat but that was about the only clear response he gave. No one could quite put a finger on the kind of relationship he and Amelie Merridew shared. Before, when both were headstrong and stubborn business tycoons, one could see how they were happier keeping out of each other's areas of work, and hardly taking the time to be with each other. Afterwards, however, their relationship took a sharp turn. Instead of respecting each other's business lives, Amelie had tried to talk about her day and her feelings with her husband, suddenly realizing after Jack's return home that she knew very little about Bryon. She'd asked him to come home more often, to see Jack and to see her. But if it was possible Bryon only became more distant with his softer wife. He'd decided that the proper way to accommodate this replacement was to let her do what she wanted with mostly everything; a sense of freedom he'd never allowed before. He was very conservative of gender stereotypes. When Amelie had wanted to renovate the house before, he'd put his foot down almost immediately and she'd kept quiet. Now, when the softer Amelie had once again requested a change to the house's formerly gloomy manor, Bryon had reluctantly agreed to give her free reign.

Not like he came home much anyways, even with a slight shift to make his wife believe he was spending just a bit more time with the family.

"Very well," he nodded, and then placed his trained eyes on Ralph who still stood frozen near the stair's railings. The blonde's voice hitched and he straightened with the new found attention on him. Bryon's mouth twitched a bit at the corner. This boy, clearly close in age to his son, was one of those easy sorts of people to keep unnerved and on their toes. Very few in the business industry would ever allow such vulnerability. But this boy laid his weaknesses out in the open, uncovered and shameless. "And who's your…friend?"

Jackie coughed loudly, now just a bit irritated with his father; no longer shocked, surprised or even relatively frightened. Talking to his father was like a game. If he made a wrong move, said the wrong thing, it would no doubt come back to haunt him in the form of silent glares.

"This is Ralph Falun. He's from school," the red head answered. He came to stand a bit closer to Ralph but not too close. "I was drinking a little too much…and collapsed at the party. He helped me to my room, and watched over me for the night." Ralph made no sound to Jack's lying and preferred to remain quiet.

"I see," Bryon really didn't see. Of all people, Jack was the one person who'd nearly perfected the iron wall that separated his emotions, thoughts and feelings from his father's vicious sight. It had taken a lot of practice, but the young teenager had come to the conclusion that to fight a monster, you'd have to become a monster. He'd made that portion of his personality clear on the island. Now he could face down his father; not as a scared little 12 year old, anymore. This slightly shook Bryon but didn't worry him so much, surprisingly.

Bryon turned his gaze flickeringly towards Ralph. "Thank you, Mr. Falun."

Ralph didn't dare respond. There was a lack of thanks in the depths of those cold blue eyes, too much like Jack's and yet a little more tinted with a darkness no man should have.

"I…was just offering Ralph some breakfast," Jack continued, stepping a little more closely to Ralph. "But I'm sure his parents are sick with worry. I'll drive him home."

"Nonsense. He'll stay for breakfast."

Now Bryon moved. And he was none too graceful, as Ralph could imagine. He walked with purpose, each step heavy on the strong wooden floor, like a marching soldier or a cunning lion approaching its prey. Bryon's long legs made leaps and bounds across the large expansion, coming to stand right up in front of Ralph. When he looked down at the shorter teenager, Ralph was forced to look back up and shuddered obviously, rubbing his arm. "You will, won't you?" Bryon's voice was like a hollow against the blonde's ears. He numbly nodded, unsure of what to say. Now two hunters, vicious men, we're standing on either side of him. Ralph was pretty sure if they'd stood a second longer, he was going to suffocate or cry for mercy. Either or would have been appropriate to him then.

But Jack took several steps back, giving Ralph breathing space and eyed his father angrily. "That's quite alright. We need to get Ralph back home, father. It's not polite to keep him from his parents."

"Nothing a phone call won't fix." Bryon took one last look at Ralph before he, too, stepped back and matched his son's gaze. "Meanwhile, take Ralph into the kitchen and get some eggs ready. I'll be in shortly."

Unable to continue with this argument that would have gone nowhere, Jack grabbed Ralph roughly and he pulled his fellow classmate down the hall, not taking heed of the blonde's stumbling feet. He'd still been frozen in fear where as Jack felt his blood boil. Jack hadn't even told his prying mother of Ralph. He knew Bryon kept tabs on his pack, and Ralph was certainly not a member. For Jack, a drunk Jack at that, to trust the blonde with his health over night was a stretch Bryon surely will take note of. Not to mention the hug…

After a few steps, Ralph felt like he could feel his body again and he kept up to pace with Jack, ripping his shoulder from the boy's death grip a little roughly. The red head seemed not to notice. Ralph gave him a worrying look, than dared to glance back. Bryon was not standing where he'd been before. Probably looking for a phone.

"Jack…" Ralph whispered, paranoid enough to think the older Merridew could pop up at any moment.

"Not a word," Jack hissed. "Answer questions with short answers, but otherwise don't say anything. Not about you, or us." The last part came out reluctantly. Ralph didn't nod, partly because Jack wouldn't have seen the nod anyways, keeping his eyes fixed ahead.

But even after all that, the one most unnerving thing about Bryon was that he was obsessive over anything he wanted, and that was the one emotion anyone could get out of him, if you could call it an emotion. More like an unbearable addition to his terribly cynical attitude. And Bryon was obsessed with control.

**Oh hai guys! Wanna know what's so funny? I actually wrote this chapter last year and never posted it…hahaha…anyways sorry this is a shorter chapter! I'm thinking of picking up this story since I've just re-read Lord of the Flies and re-watched some LotF videos so lets see how that goes.**


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